


The Art of Letting Go

by Serinah



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Civil War Fix-It, Complicated Relationships, Edging, Fix-It, Getting Back Together, M/M, Objectification, Pining, Powerplay, SSC, Tony likes to be forced, Tony refuses gentlenes, Working it out via kink, enjoyed humiliation, gags and plugs, gets softer every chapter, subspace and domspace issues, until he doesn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:35:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 43,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23040307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serinah/pseuds/Serinah
Summary: A week. It was going to be a week of submission, suffering, and pain. Maybe there was going to be sex? After all, it was all they really ever had between them.Tony was going to play his part. He wanted closure. He wanted to move on. After years of pining over someone who would never love him back, he was desperate to let go.But then Steve had other ideas.(The story is COMPLETED and will hopefully be updated regularly.)
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 124
Kudos: 311
Collections: Marvel Trumps Hate 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AvengersNewB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvengersNewB/gifts).



> This is my first **MTH** fiction for the wonderful AvengerNewB. I hope you'll enjoy!
> 
> **What did I handwave?**
> 
> Tony and Pepper took a break, and never got back together. So no Morgan either. :( Instead, Steve grew some balls and made the first move, but then the CW broke them up anyway.
> 
> EG: Thanos was killed off, no one died and Steve didn't escape from his present. No explanation about how the EG finished because this story deals with the stony relationship first and foremost.  
> WARNING: I personally view subbing as something you do for yourself, to make yourself experience bad feelings in a safe environment, so yeah, this might feel like coercion in places, but Tony asked for it. So everything is safe, sane and consensual. He has his safewords spoken and otherwise. If this turns out to be too triggery for you (it def will not be for most people, imo), please, take care of yourself and X out.
> 
> **BETAS**  
> Thank you so much: Menatiera and athletiger for doing some of it and a special thank you to  
> *synteis*  
> who was absolutely wonderful at picking at the content and structure and being such and encouraging presence! This story wouldn't have been half as good if you hadn't gotten on board! THANK YOU SO MUCH! <3
> 
> And the last tier of edits: Bae!! You are AMAZING! <3
> 
> And Ven, I LOB you!!!!!!!  
> (You know what you did!)

The war was over. Thanos was gone and with this, all his army. Nebula had come through. What was incredible about those alien species (and Tony tried to never judge books by their covers) was that some didn’t even call themselves gods but were still freakishly powerful. Blue women, full of technology and pain. Some green ones. Some animals were highly intelligent and still assholes.

Tony could relate.

The Accords? Gone.

Tony had promised Steve to amend them if he signed, but in the end, Steve never had and now it had ceased to matter.

The only thing that mattered was the chain that was fastened to the back of the collar around Tony’s neck. And that he was kneeling, naked; waiting.

The anger at how fractured the Avengers still were even after all this time was simmering just under the surface and that had to stop. Tony needed to find ways to let go. The Avengers were broken apart just as Tony was.

_“You did that when you signed.”_

These words still haunted him. Still hurt. He knew that he'd done the right thing by signing but when Steve wanted to hurt him, he always knew where to cut with the precision of a surgeon.

The door opened and Tony's head came up to check as if there was any chance of it being someone else, but of course, it was Steve who entered. His face was an unreadable mask but his eyes told Tony the truth; Steve was worried. Tony dropped his gaze; he had no energy to spend on Steve's emotions. The guilt Steve carried was his own to bear just like Tony's was his, but it was Tony's turn to be taken care of now.

_“You did that when you signed.”_

Bastard.

Tony wasn't the one that broke up the team, Steve was. Maybe even Clint would've signed if Steve hadn't made a fuss. They could have amended the documents later, or Steve could have given a speech to the stupid UN panel any time they doubted whether to send the Avengers out or not. One impassioned speech and the few nice ladies and the old white men would have folded like a pack of cards. Easy.

But that was not what had happened. The Civil War and the invasion of the mad titan on its heels had not been pretty. If the Avengers hadn't been broken up, the fighting could have all been so much shorter. So many lives could have been spared.

But they had and it wasn't, and now the pain and guilt were suffocating, and Tony had no idea how to go on anymore. How to look his teammates in the eye, how to even relate to Steve. For almost a month he'd ignored him as they were working on the restoration efforts together, them and their team. He only saw Steve at the meetings and they only communicated through the emails and other people.

_“I know I hurt you, Tony.”_

Go fuck yourself.

It had gotten so bad that even Pepper refused to be the middleman. A forced vacation of a month with the order to make up for them both was the team’s unanimous decision.

Well, Tony had no idea if reconciliation was even possible but… Here he was, on his knees, ready for his punishment.

"Tony?"

"No." Tony still couldn't look at him. He needed to atone, to submit, to hurt just for a little bit… more. Maybe then he could finally rest. Be at peace.

Maybe he should check if Steve was still with him on what they agreed, but he couldn’t. The idea of seeing the sympathy and guilt in Steve's eyes was unbearable. And what Steve thought or felt didn't matter. "No," Tony growled, still staring at the carpet. "You don't get to do that. You concealed the truth from me, you betrayed and abandoned me. You broke us apart after promising me together and then you left! You owe this to me, Rogers!"

There was no answer for almost a minute, but then Steve started walking. He made a circle around Tony, unclipped his chain from the footboard, walked past, and shortened the length so that it pulled Tony’s posture straight. He fastened it back to the bed. Tony gripped his wrists tighter and listened to how Steve walked to the specially equipped dresser and opened a couple of drawers. From the corner of his eye, he saw how Steve just stood there for a minute more, breading in harsh puffs, obviously trying to calm himself.

"Well," Steve finally said. Whether he was angry at Tony or at himself was unclear. But these days he was generally angry anyway. "You've made your feelings perfectly clear, haven't you? I think it's time for you to shut your mouth."

He came back, grabbed Tony by the hair, and yanked his head backwards. He raised his hand and showed him the largest goddamn monster of a ball gag Tony had ever seen. It had some kind of metal ring on the front, for hauling a sub around by it, Tony assumed. He swallowed reflexively.

"Open up," Steve said in an uncompromising voice and for the first time that evening, Tony felt a stirring in his cock.

When he didn't react fast enough, Steve grabbed his face and pushed his fingers into his jaws' pressure points so he could shove the huge ball in. He fastened the straps behind Tony's head and over his forehead to keep the thing in no matter what he did. For a moment, Tony almost gagged against the merciless pressure.

"I wonder if you ordered all this crap yourself or if you had a person to do that for you?"

Steve's tone wasn't wondering at all. It was clear that he was out of his element and it was making him unsettled. Good. Predictably, Steve lashed out.

"What did you tell them? To get a roomful of torture devices?"

Toys for maximum discomfort was the phrase, actually, thank you very much.

"A whip?" Steve went on, "Did you really think I would go for that?"

Quick as lightning, he turned and lashed once at the carpet in the middle of the room. Tony flinched.

Steve harrumphed, disgusted. He threw the whip back into the drawer and went on rummaging through the rest of the dresser and the floor to ceiling cupboard.

Tony's knees were going numb and swallowing was starting to get difficult.

“Friday, order a decent first aid kit, please,” Steve said as he walked towards the bathroom. He stopped midway, stared at the ceiling and then at Tony. “Did you disable your AI in this room? Are you actually suicidal?”

Tony gave a slow blink and shuffled on his knees but didn’t answer.

“Jesus, Tony.”

Steve walked straight to the door, opened it and repeated his request to Friday. When he came back in, he didn’t spend much time on deliberating, just went to get the things he needed and stepped in front of Tony.

Tony knew that he was staring at him but Tony refused to make eye contact.

Steve crouched in front of him. Tony looked away. Steve pinched both of his nipples painfully and Tony bit back a yelp and then a moan as the pain spread and changed when Steve rubbed and rolled the tender nubs between his fingers.

How he knew that Steve was still staring at him, Tony didn't know but he was sure that he was. Tony closed his eyes.

"I'm not going to blindfold you, Tony."

Strangely Tony thought he heard affection in his voice but that must have been wishful thinking.

The next thing he knew, there was a strict posture collar being fastened around his neck. It fit over the smaller one he was already wearing, Steve just had to disconnect the chain that had been tethering him to the footboard. The wide collar lifted his chin and to test it out, Tony tried to shake his head. He couldn't, so he closed his eyes tighter and tried savoring the feeling.

His cock was full now and for a split second, Tony wished that he'd just offered Steve an opportunity to fuck it out like they used to before the clusterfuck that was the Accords but no. That wasn't who they were to each other anymore. Sometimes Tony still thought that Steve really had loved him at some point. But not the right way. As much as Tony believed in Steve's ability to love, it obviously always came after doing the right thing and Tony… wasn’t wired like that.

For Tony, love came first. Signing the Accords had put him into an impossible situation where he couldn't help Steve anymore. And Steve had chosen Barnes.

At first, Tony had decided that he'd been very naive in his belief that he could convince Steve to sign just because they loved each other. But now he knew better. Steve had never really loved Tony the same way.

_“I still love you, Tony.”_

__

__

_“I want to make it work again. Make us work. What do you think?”_

Tony hadn't answered.

Steve fastened a wide cuff around Tony's forearms and then fixed his wrists up to the back of his collar, his shoulder blades and arms were under a nasty strain.

"Would you like some release to the tension now maybe?" Steve asked in an amused voice and Tony frowned.

"Your cock is dripping," Steve explained, and yes, now Tony could suddenly feel it too.

The few minutes of nipple torture that Steve bestowed on him, made him tremble and he almost forgot that his posture was too straight and that his arms were killing him. He managed to suppress his sigh when Steve put the nipple clamps on him but when the sharp pain also bit at his sack, Tony moaned quietly.

"You like it, huh?" Steve pushed and manipulated Tony towards the bed and pressed his chest down on it. "I'm sorry, I'm confused. Was that what you wanted? For it to hurt real good? Or did you want it to hurt bad?" Steve went on coldly. 

He knew Steve was acting but it still felt satisfying to be treated like dirt. Or maybe it was because of that. God, he was hard. But that wasn't what this was about, was it? Steve would remember not to let him forget that this was a punishment. Tony had to find a way to atone. He needed to know that there was some balance in the universe; he’d caused a lot of misery and now he felt safe in the knowledge that some of it would be brought back on him.

Steve was the perfect tool for his punishment.

"Don't get used to the good though, because the point is not for you to enjoy it, is it? How did you put it? Oh yes, you said, if you wanted to get off, you'd get a hooker. Well, you don't have to worry about getting off anytime soon, sweetheart." He almost spat the last word. "There's gonna be a lot of pain in the next- what? You said a week?" He pressed down harder on Tony's back which pushed his chest deeper into the mattress, and Tony hissed. His naked butt was now jutting upwards and his weeping cock was dangling between his legs with zero friction.

Then Steve kicked Tony's knees wider and barked, "Stay."

He left for a short while, and to his humiliation, Tony was not only hard as fuck but also drooling. Being told to stay like a dog, nevermind that they both knew that there was no way he’d leave anyway, made something burn deep in his chest. Shame. Shame and a weird sort of satisfaction that made him almost feel embarrassed guilty for enjoying it. Why would he even enjoy it?

When Steve returned, he was holding a spreader bar in his hands that was probably not meant for keeping knees apart. It was long, much too long and when it was fixed between his knees (fuck you, Rogers!), Tony slid lower, towards the edge of the bed and his nipples started chafing something awful. The saliva was irritating at the side of his chin and carelessly, Steve lifted the sheet Tony was lying on to wipe it off but Tony jerked his head away.

Steve dropped the sheet and chuckled. "Yeah, you can keep drooling, you look pretty like that for sure."

Tony flushed hot and turned his head away even though there was no way to really hide if Steve wished to see his face. Not that he was that interested. He just stepped back and hummed.

"Well anyway, I might not be finished with you by the end of the week, did you even think of that? Officially we have more than two weeks left of the leave, but what if I kept you trussed up like this a little longer? What if I called Pepper and told her that we need another week? She would believe me, you know she would. The team would be happy that we are working things out and no one would interfere. Pepper might even send some documents for you to sign and you would, like a good boy. I might even untie your dominant hand for that."

The bones in Tony’s back ached from the strain, there were tears in his eyes, and his arousal was diminishing. How long did Steve plan on keeping him like this? Not the long term Steve was threatening him with (Tony didn't believe for a second Steve would actually lie to Pepper to prolong their scene), but short term, in this position?

When he felt the dry nudge of a narrow plug at his entrance, Tony jumped and the sudden pain in various parts of his body made him bite harshly into the gag. The spit running down the left corner of his mouth and into his beard and neck was disgusting, and his wrists had now also started to ache.

No, no, no, he tried to protest even though Steve seemed to be careful not to tear him, but it would still be painful-

Wasn't that what Tony had wanted?

With such a large gag it was impossible to get out anything but an indistinct noise, so he couldn't ask, couldn't reason with Steve. Maybe Steve didn't know that he could tear like this? Or thought that this was the pain Tony wanted?

"Don't like it much, huh?" Steve asked darkly. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

Jesus.

Steve chuckled cruelly, and for the first time, Tony started doubting whether all of this had been a good idea after all. Had he finally pushed Steve too far? Did Steve really want to hurt him?

Sure, Tony had asked Steve to hurt him, to take him out of his head, but he'd been thinking something more like flogging or-or… God, how far was Steve planning to take it?

After a couple of more almost-shoves against his opening, the pressure stabilized, and Tony heard the snick of a lube bottle opening.

For a short moment, Tony relaxed, but the cold trickle of the lube didn't land on his bottom but on his back; it was as if Steve was painting on his back and buttocks with a tube of paint. Then the pressure was lifted and his hole got a generous dollop of the cold liquid.

Tony took a couple of deep breaths to calm down. He shouldn't have celebrated too early though because the plug Steve was using now at his entrance was much larger and heavier; it didn’t feel like it would have any give at all - Tony’s body had to do a lot of accommodating. And even while not trying to tear the flesh, Steve didn't actually take enough time to stretch him and the moment the plug was shoved in him was like an ice-cold poker in his butt, like being split in half, like nothing he'd ever-

No, it was okay. Tony was okay, this was painful but it was manageable, and despite the cry of fear and pain he involuntarily gave out and tears in his eyes, Tony was still rock hard. He was trying to move away from the intrusion and meet it simultaneously. Idiotically, Tony suddenly wished for Steve to touch him; slowly, tenderly, with… But no, Tony wouldn’t be able to take it if he did. Not any more. This was not something he deserved to have any more.

"There, there," Steve said instead, mockingly, but something in the voice was utterly fake and Tony could tell that there were tears in Steve's voice too.

Did he hurt by hurting Tony? Tony didn’t care. Couldn’t care. Wouldn’t.

"You've done it before,” Steve asked quietly, “haven't you? This is not so bad, just a little bit of pain in the wake of some pleasure."

Before Tony had time to process the words, he heard a click and the plug came alive. He groaned as it vibrated with a low buzz. His cock twitched and stiffened a little more but it was a distant pleasure as if separate from his mind. He squirmed to get used to the new sensation.

Steve shushed him and pet his hair and stroked his lubed up skin. It was disgusting and it felt nice and the pain was receding.

Tony said 'no' through his gag but it wasn't a safeword so Steve hardly listened.

No.

Don't be gentle. Please.

Steve paid it no heed. While Tony had always loved a little pain with his pleasure, this was clearly too much. Soon, the ache in his ass was the only pleasurable input and even that was starting to be more of a cacophony of sensations. Tony didn't know what was worse; the way he was tied up or the clamps on his nipples and balls. Slowly, all the pleasure was turning into thorough agony and Tony just wished it would all stop. The dark images in front of his closed eyes were fading into darker grey and the physical sensations intensified into a relaxing cacophony. All the worrying thoughts were receding one by one and he wished he had the strength to arch into the petting.

Rattled at the thought, Tony jerked and grunted at the flares of pain in several places in his body, and in anger. He tried to take slow, deep breaths, but that was not really helping.

Tony was so stupid to have forgotten.

"Are you going to snap your fingers, doll? I can see you are thinking about it. It's getting too much, isn't it?"

If he could, Tony would've shaken his head. No. He wouldn’t safeword. He'd told Steve that he could take it and he could. It was hell, he wished he could safeword, he really did but--

Then everything would stop and Tony wasn’t ready for that.

Steve pulled him up off the bed and yanked the nipple clamps off. Tony screamed into the gag.

Before he could recover, the same happened to the clips on his balls and this time, the pain robbed him of air and his scream was silent. Tony didn’t really notice when, but suddenly his hands were unfastened, then the spreader was removed, and at last the posture collar. Tony whimpered and groaned, as Steve hauled him onto his back and on the bed. Now there was a new fire in his joints, a better pain.

"God, you're filthy," Steve said, cleaning the slobber off of Tony's chin.

There was glee and affection in his voice, and it was almost worse to hear such emotions in Steve's voice than the indignity of the act. Tony told himself to ignore both. He was aching and shivering and the plug was still buzzing inside him. Why? Tony had no idea what it was supposed to achieve. They both knew that Tony's libido was high enough that it would soon reactivate his pleasure centers. Had Steve forgotten? Or was he ignoring Tony's directives? Missing the point of this little exercise?

Tony pulled his head away from under Steve's stroking hand. If he could, he'd tell Steve to cut that out, he wasn't a cat, for God's sake. But it didn’t matter because somehow Steve knew. He stopped touching his hair and put his fingers on the ring in Tony's gag instead. For a moment Tony panicked, but the ring wasn't for hauling him around after all: there was a click and an inner tube parted from the gag leaving an opening into his mouth while still keeping him effectively gagged.

"Huh,” Steve said, peering into the opening. “I think it's meant for me to fuck you through this but you know there are only a few openings I'd actually fit in," Steve commented dryly while putting his fingers into the gag and feeling around inside.

Tony's erection was back roaring and he fisted his fingers into the soft bedspread. It was humiliating, but a part of him wished he could feel Steve's fingers inside his mouth. Instead, Steve sat up and grabbed a bottle of water from the nightstand. Uncapping it, he helped Tony to sit up and the plug’s angle changed. Tony shivered.

"Don't choke," Steve said, lifting his chin and carefully trickling some water into the hole.

It was still difficult to swallow but without the restrictive collar it was possible.

Steve smiled and suddenly Tony realized that no, he'd not forgotten where the green flecks in Steve's eyes were, after all. Without letting himself analyze the expression on Steve's face, he grimaced and looked away.

“I’m still not worthy of your gaze, I see?” Steve sounded cold, almost clinical, very unlike himself. “Well. We’ll see if that changes before the week is out.”

With more care than warranted, Steve lowered him back onto the bed. Tony glared at his chin and Steve flicked his nipple in retaliation. Tony flinched even though it only helped his erection along, and what was worse, Steve was now looking at it. Tony started shaking his head, but unexpectedly, Steve just slapped Tony's cock and the pain shook him out of any further protests.

So Steve was still game. Okay.

Tony nodded and let himself be bound with the forearm-wide cuffs, this time in the front. When Steve brought them over his head to fasten them to the headboard, they pulled a bit on his aching shoulders, but for a change, it was a good ache.

The buzz in his butt was getting annoying. It was either too little or at the wrong angle; despite himself, Tony shifted around to make it feel better.

Steve grinned and slapped his cock again. Tony jerked in his bonds and it hit Tony like a ton of bricks that Steve had probably been getting a little worked up too. Tony lifted his chin to swallow around his awful gag and closed his eyes. It didn’t matter, he told himself. Steve’s enjoyment wasn’t part of the program, but even if he did, it didn’t change what was about to happen.

Steve straddled his thighs and trickled some lube on Tony's nipples and chest, then his cock.  
Tony moaned.

The massage that followed, was all sorts of good, in the way that Tony didn’t want. Steve was considerate and teasing and his nipples were getting a workout; even his cock didn’t stay neglected.

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

Tony bucked. He knew that he couldn’t push a supersoldier off, but he could sure as hell try. Steve would know of Tony’s dissatisfaction.

No, he yelled through the gag when Steve didn’t budge, but then--

“Well, if you refuse pleasure, then you sure as hell will get none.”

Steve sounded angry and Tony knew he was hurt, but Tony couldn’t care about that, wouldn’t care about that, so he turned and twisted as much as he could while Steve pinched and squeezed and pulled on his nipples, and it was hell and now Tony was shouting for a completely different reason.

Then Steve squeezed his nipples between his fingers like pincers, leaned down until he was two inches from Tony’s face, and hissed, “If you wanted a Captain Hydra instead of Captain America, then you should’ve said so.”

Releasing Tony’s nipples, Steve grabbed his cock in one hand and his balls in another. He squeezed and pulled on his balls and shaft intermittently and whether he tried shifting away or keeping still, nothing alleviated the painful pressure. Steve didn’t finish until tears were streaming down Tony’s face and his erection was completely gone.

Tony thought that he should probably safeword but this didn't seem to be pressing… Tony wasn't sure why this situation should worry him… It was Steve. Steve was good. Steve would only do what was right and right now he'd decided to give Tony pain. And the pain was good. Cleansing. Tony didn't have to feel guilty anymore.

He felt free.

Steve would take care of him. 

Then, Steve stopped.

Tony took deep breaths through his nose to calm himself. Made an effort to unclench his fists. There was a touch on his cheek and Tony’s eyes snapped open.

The reality of the situation hit Tony. Here he was, getting lost in his head and Steve was two seconds away from caressing him? Why had Steve stopped and why would he look so guilty now? What right did Steve have to feel guilt here?

Abruptly, Steve withdrew his hand and his face hardened. He slid off Tony’s thighs, pushed his legs up and grabbed the base of his plug.

“Ready?” he asked in a mean tone, and oh fuck, this felt right.

Tony closed his eyes and shivered.

Steve pulled the plug out halfway and shoved it back in. Tony yelped. With no expression on his face, Steve repeated it again and again and kept it up for much too long. Tony tried to crawl away but Steve curled one arm around Tony’s right thigh and just went on fucking him.

Tony's thoughts fled and scattered; he panted, moaned and - fuck, that was good, that was good - started meeting him thrust for thrust, just at the right spot, just there - his face screwed up, he bit into the straps of the gag and keened as he felt his balls draw up and his cock--

No! No-no-no! He yelled and trashed as Steve let go of the plug and pulled at his sack instead, then pressed into the nerves at the base of his cock and his orgasm evaporated as if it never was.

Steve, please, he begged into his gag, but Steve wasn’t even looking at him. Steve’s eyes were shut, his face turned away as if in agony as if he was the one being hurt and Tony-  
Tony started crying.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I didn't expect to update so soon, IDK how that happened. The third chapter will not be that quick, but this morning i just couldn't help myself. LOL
> 
> Secondly, the AO3 script failed me yesterday, I noticed that some sentences (all 5 of them) that were supposed to be flashbacks, were not in italics and I've corrected that now. I'm sorry, some of you might have thought that the dialogues were not working out, like the sentences of 'I still love you', etc. So... If something felt iffy, you might want to go back and check that out. Tony remembered 5 sentences that sounded only in his head. I hope that clears it up.
> 
> Third, I added 3 tags. I don't expect to add much more, but atm I'm not sure. I keep finding new stuff as I edit. I'm sorry about that. If you need warnings for concrete things, contact me on tumblr (serinah80) or find me on Discord (Serinah#8596). I really hope that will not cause anyone any grief!
> 
> And lastly, I really, really hope you'll enjoy the next installment. Steve was a bit erratic in the first chapter - I hope this will clear it up a bit? :)

Tony woke with a jolt. He felt strangely rested as if he'd slept deeply and for at least six hours. Tony started moving his head but thought better of it and stilled.

Steve was spooning him from behind, his breath, hot and steady against Tony’s ear and his hands were tantalizingly close to his crotch. Tony was getting hard.

Fuck.

It should have been difficult to sleep while still cuffed to the headboard with the plug in, but somehow, it hadn't been. Instead, his breathing had slowed in relaxation, and he’d felt as if falling into the softest feather bed. Steve having removed the gag only helped with it. Waking up now, he felt warm and refreshed.

In every other sense, though, Tony was decidedly uncomfortable.

His erection roaring now, it demanded attention. Tony needed Steve's hands lower, he needed to turn onto his belly, he needed to stretch.

Shit.

Don't groan. Don't move, not now!

It wasn't that Tony hadn't known that any time he undressed it had an effect on Steve, or that he thought that Steve didn't care about him at all. Of course, Steve would still care on some level, Tony had been aware of it when he proposed this week for their mutual catharsis. He might have even vaguely imagined that Steve might probably want to fuck him, but it had always been like an unimportant detail of the background noise.

The moment he actually witnessed Steve getting aroused, saw his erection, felt his fingers at his asshole… That was the moment he suddenly started doubting whether it had been a good idea after all. Steve enjoying himself sexually had a detrimental effect on Tony's determination to suffer.

This was what Tony needed: to be brought low, to be hurt, to feel a physical ache in his muscles and bones, to maybe see his blood spill… What had happened last night had helped, but not enough. Not nearly enough. Tony would have expected more, a lot more pain before he'd feel remotely better.

And he thought that Steve could deliver. They’d never played around with power games in the bedroom before, not exactly. They’d had some sexual encounters that had felt less than equal and they'd both liked it. They'd even spoken about trying out some structured games but never actually managed to do anything in practice.

So Tony had known that Steve was perfectly capable of making Tony do what he didn’t think he could or would want to, but now confronted with Steve’s own emotions that apparently weren’t as one-dimensional as Tony had dared to imagine…

Why had Steve agreed?

Now, lying on his side, Tony wished he could just sneak off. He closed his eyes again and thought about how he could possibly get out of here without Steve noticing. He couldn’t, of course, but damn, he didn’t want Steve to wake up like this and not care about him. For it to be just physical.

Tony knew that he’d blown it with Steve. Another relationship down the drain and Tony was left shaken, lonely and miserable. In the grand scheme of things, it didn’t matter. He’d always known Steve would come to his senses sooner or later. He’d just hoped that they’d get more than the short two months together. Well, it had been more than he deserved anyway.

Now though, he was in a plight.

Stupidly, Tony had thought that this week would be a great way to get rid of all and every vestige of hope for them ever reconciling, but also to make peace with each other. They needed to work together and Tony not even being able to look at Steve was wrecking that. He was still angry, yes, but he was also heartsick and Steve… Steve had seemed so angry with Tony. All the time.

The letter he’d sent after the Siberia fiasco, after he left Tony beaten and broken with a shattered arc reactor in that desolate bunker, after all the secrets… To Tony, it felt… spiteful. To mix warm sincerity with such polite dismissiveness…

After that, Tony couldn't harbor any more illusions regarding how much of the tender feelings Steve had still retained for him. So that was why his physical ardor, the heat, and passion with which Steve had dominated him last night was so hard for Tony to bear.

He’d expected the Steve Rogers™ care and compassion at the right times of the game, yes, but he’d also thought that he would be relatively levelheaded and calculative. He'd expected that Steve would've made a plan of how to bring Tony down, shake him up, and wring him out. Tony had thought that a week of Steve treating him like a nasty little thing would help him atone for what he’d done, get over it and to a degree, lose his ardor. He’d thought maybe it could also give Steve a chance to see his genuine regret.

But that didn't seem to be happening. Steve was being all over the place, obstinate or as if he didn't understand what they were doing here at all; and if Tony loved Steve any less, he might be able to forgive him for this too.

As it were, it was just making Tony confused. Angry. Tony meant angry. Should he try to talk to Steve about it? But recently any talking they did, ended up making things worse...

His shoulders were aching again and so were his thighs. The plug was a hard foreign object in his stiff muscles; he needed to move. To stretch and to take that stupid thing out.

He needed Steve to not treat him as if he loved him.

Fuck.

Why had Steve even stayed in the same bed with him? He could’ve just left him here and come back in the morning. Tony had designed this suite to have a dungeon-like bedroom for play, with the Alexander’s cross, hooks in the ceiling and cupboards full of toys; there was a spacious bathroom, a decent kitchen, and this bedroom for the 'dom'... for Steve. But here they were now, both in the feather soft bed.

Tony was supposed to be treated like an object here - didn't Steve understand that?

The only personal effects were the things Steve had brought with him. The clothes that Tony arrived in, Steve had taken away as they’d agreed in the beginning and even though the door was unlocked (Steve’s stipulation) the idea was that Tony would be unable to leave until Steve allowed him to. He was just a thing here, one of many for Steve to use however he saw fit.

And now Steve was fucking it up.

It must be arousal. Steve had always been a generous lover. Why hadn't Tony factored in the fact that Steve would get aroused?

Unable to stay still, Tony shifted.

Steve hummed.

Fuck.

"Need to piss," Tony groused.

The hum was mildly disapproving now and Tony's hard-on twitched.

"I don't think you can piss like this."

Steve's hand moved lower and he petted Tony's poor cock. Tony bucked into the touch and grunted. He pulled away but that just brought his ass flush with another raging hard-on. Steve hummed appreciatively, gripped Tony's cock and playing with it lightly, started humping him from behind.

Tony grit his teeth and tried not to react more than he already had.

"Stubborn, huh?" Steve's voice was full of utter contentment. "Just like always. Don't worry, I'm still honoring our agreement. I'm not going to let you enjoy yourself too much. Just a thing for me to play with."

For you to use and torture, Tony wanted to correct him, but he thought that if he opened his mouth he'd moan.

"Hm…" Steve let go of Tony's cock and he almost whimpered. He slid his hands over Tony's stomach and just held them there, only making slow tiny caress-like movements.

"You know initially," Steve said into Tony's ear, "when you came up with this crazy idea for putting our differences behind with this week-long session, I thought you were... I thought it wouldn't really work, but I thought I could do it for you. Try to help? To take you down a peg like we used to. Only with less sex, as you implied." Steve slid his hands higher, brushed across Tony's nipples to play with one, and resumed slowly stroking Tony's stomach again. "And I thought at first that I would honor your wish, but now…"

Steve's clever fingers moved to the other nipple and his other hand brushed over Tony's cock only to cup and caress his sack just the way Tony so desperately loved. Now Tony did whimper.

He didn't really want it, he told himself, he wasn't supposed to feel good; why was Steve doing it?

"Now," Steve went on as if answering Tony's question. "Now I'm thinking that maybe I should just enjoy it. There was nothing in that agreement that said that it should be just hard work for me, did it?"

"You love it when I enjoy things though," Tony grunted out.

"True. But I also love it when you don't. I've just… Haven't let myself show it to you. But it seems that whatever I do, you don't want my gentleness, so beyond a tease and a pat, you won't get any. I will use you and torture you, Tony, but I won't use whips to do it. It's just not my style."

Steve started to jerk Tony off in earnest now and Tony wanted to ask him why he was doing this then, why was he pleasuring Tony now, but all his body was capable of was bucking and jerking and panting and 'yes-yes-yes-yes'.

And then Steve let go.

"God, fuck, Steve!"

Steve turned Tony on his back, straddled him and leaning his one hand next to Tony's head, gripped his own shaft and started jerking off at an insane pace.

"You can... still... safeword." His face was blotchy red, his eyes burning on Tony's. "But then… all this…" he scrunched his face up, eyes closed as if he was on the verge of coming. "...will stop… no… week…"

Steve's cock exploded and he groaned his satisfaction. His movements were still jerky, but slowing down; then Steve’s hand folded under him and he collapsed next to Tony. Keeping his eyes closed breathing heavily, Steve looked peaceful.

His cum was a sticky splotch on Tony's chin and the trail reached almost to his navel. He felt dirty but also weirdly accomplished; as if Steve coming so hard was his doing.

God, Tony wanted to come so bad. He wanted out of this place. He wanted a kiss.

But their last kiss was the casual peck on the lips just before he left for DC to fetch Ross and that was the way it would stay.

For the moment, Steve looked almost happy, just lying next to him... Tony really wished he could lean over and press his lips to his. Luckily, he was still tethered to the headboard and not so luckily, he was still rock hard, and there was still that fucking plug in him that now felt like a tantalizing promise that might never be fulfilled.

His animosity was quietly trickling back and Tony’s lips twitched into a scowl.

Steve propped himself on an elbow and looked at Tony seriously. "I didn't mean it about aborting everything if you safeword."

Tony grunted and turned his face away.

"But you knew that," Steve muttered. "You look filthy," he added after a second.

Tony sent him a glare and Steve grinned lazily in reply. A startling spike of fear speared Tony and he averted his gaze. Looking at Steve wasn't helping. At all.

This was a mistake. Why was Steve looking at him like this?

"Well it's your filth," Tony said, trying to cover his confusion with waspishness.

The whole idea was a mistake if Steve was going to look at him like this for much longer… Safeword was a finger twitch away and attempting to fortify himself, Tony inhaled, but his inner trembling was only increasing.

"My filth," Steve said thoughtfully, his tone a few degrees cooler. "Yes. All of it."

And that just like that, Tony's fingers relaxed and no safeword appeared. He breathed in and out and tried to relax. Despite the coldness in his voice, Steve sounded as if he meant more than just the spunk on Tony's chest. Tony's heartbeat kept thudding away in an anxious rhythm like a fluttering butterfly, then dying down into an acid tar in his stomach.

"Fuck you," he spat.

"Later," Steve said, sitting up. "You do need a thorough rub-down first. Up you get."

He unbuckled the cuffs from the headboard and reached out to help him up but Tony brushed him off. Setting his face against showing the ache in his stiff joints and muscles, Tony got up and slowly walked towards the bathroom. The plug was painful, but Steve probably didn't know that. As far as Tony knew, Steve had never worn them long and Tony had never told him about it.

Damn, he'd been glutton for punishment even back then.

"Nah-nah-nah, no wiping away my filth off my filth," Steve singsonged and pulled Tony's hand away from his chin.

Tony gritted his teeth.

"Still so defiant, hm? I was supposed to get you low, remember? So get on your knees and crawl."

Tony stopped in the middle of the room and breathed. This wasn't them, Steve and him, this really wasn't… Had Tony wrecked them by asking Steve to do this? It wasn't arousing, true, but that had been the point. Tony's point. But even though Tony needed it, wasn’t it selfish of him to make Steve do it? Steve couldn’t be enjoying this. This was disgusting. Crawling on his hands and knees was humiliating. Tony needed it, and he didn’t think he could do it for anyone else, but...

Fuck.

“Well?” Steve asked, his tone demanding, questioning and worried, all at the same time.

Tony lowered his head, took a deep breath and nodded. Then, slowly, as if physically suppressing his pride under himself, Tony got to his hands and knees, closed his eyes for just a moment and started crawling.

With only a few inches of chain between his wrists, it was awkwardly slow, but that gave him something to concentrate on. Something other than his embarrassment. He was ungainly, clumsy, and Tony wasn’t used to being less than nimble and elegant in his movements. He had no idea what Steve saw when he was looking at Tony right now, but undoubtedly it didn’t look pretty. Blushing, Tony swallowed, unable to even raise his eyes from the small patch of the floor in front of his hands.

Was Steve embarrassed too? On his behalf? The idea of it made Tony want to throw up. But Steve could take it. He didn’t care that much, surely? Steve was the one to devise this type of torture for Tony instead of straight-up pain, so he must have felt it a fitting punishment. The thought filled Tony’s gut with hot lava and it shot straight to his groin.

That was then that Tony felt something touching his ass. Shocked, he looked behind his shoulder and saw Steve's naked foot sliding down his ass and between his cheeks. Tony shivered with disgust and humiliation. He glanced up to tell Seve what he thought about it, but the protests died on his lips as he saw Steve, his Steve, openly ogling, his face flushed with guilty arousal as he moved his foot and kneaded the base of the plug for a few times before meeting Tony’s eyes defiantly.

"Yeah, go on, doggie, don't pay me any mind," he said, sounding unsure, but determined and obviously turned on.

Instantly, Tony felt himself flushing scarlet. He turned back to stare straight ahead of himself and started moving again. Moving faster.

At step three Steve lowered his foot onto his skin again and Tony swallowed, feeling his confused arousal roar like a mad tiger in a too tiny cage. At step five Steve pushed his naked foot between Tony’s legs and pressed up against his erection.

"Oof, Little Tony likes it!"

Steve sounded as shocked as Tony felt. He kneaded his heavy balls, slid over the stiff cock and Tony scrambled faster to get away. Steve chuckled.

“Yeah, run along, pet. Enjoy it while you can."

His voice was cruel and mocking but he was also clearly enjoying it and that…

God, Tony couldn't possibly like it, could he? Being treated like this? No. The shame was burning in his veins, making him shiver, but no. No, of course, he didn't like it. He couldn't. His rock hard cock and the excitement in his blood disagreed but Tony decided to ignore it.

"Stay," Steve barked the moment they'd reached the inside of the bathroom.

Again, the word filled Tony with burning arousal and he stilled. Leaving the door open, Steve left for just a minute and Tony heard him opening the suite door. Trying to moderate his breathing, Tony listened.

"Friday, could you please order us breakfast from Rosetta’s? The usual?"

There was a brief pause during which Friday answered and then a longer one followed.

"But hold the blueberries, please," Steve added in a rush.

Still incredibly turned on, Tony had to hold off an unexpected bark of laughter. Steve had ordered Tony's favorite breakfast but then obviously remembered that he wasn't supposed to be pampering Tony and canceled his favorite part.

"Mm… what a cruel master Dom you are, sir," Tony mocked him, as Steve returned to the bathroom.

"Shut it and hold still.”

Tony knew Steve was blushing, but that didn’t change the fact that Tony was the naked one on his hands and knees and Steve was the one to tell when he was allowed to get up. On the other hand, the situation had a humorous edge to it that diminished the humiliation and horny both, and a part of Tony even regretted it a little. However, the reprieve didn’t last because the next thing Steve did was to play with the plug.

He started by rotating it gently, then moving it back and forth and at first, Tony steeled himself, but after a short while, he realized that Steve was only tugging it outwards, not trying to find his sweet spot. More than that, he seemed careful not to hurt Tony, which he actually appreciated, but he couldn’t help-

“Ungh!” Tony yelped and contracted his sphincter muscles to compensate for the pain that had cut sharply into his hole from the sudden removal of the plug.

“There, there,” Steve said, patting Tony’s ass. Then after a few seconds asked, “You alright?”  
Tony was still fighting down the pain, but the question also made him angry.

“Don’t you dare go soft on me now, Rogers! You start coddling me, I’ll find someone else!”

Tony didn’t mean it, he wouldn’t. Couldn’t, but-

He yelped again and almost fell over because Steve slapped his ass rather hard, then grabbed his hair and pulled his head backwards.

“No,” Steve growled and this time Tony had no idea how gamely it was actually meant.

“Yeah…” Tony breathed quietly, a shiver going through him. “Okay.”

“Good.”

Steve’s voice was full of dark satisfaction. He let go of Tony's hair with a light shove, and Tony almost fell.

“Don’t move.”

Tony’s insides tingled and shivering with arousal, he stayed put.

“Now, listen up," Steve said. "I need to get you clean and do it my way, and I don’t need your input for that. So you are not going to make a peep even if you don’t like how I do things, is that understood?”

Tony suspected that it meant no pain, but if Steve was going to order him around and treat him like an object, he could take it. Probably. He nodded.

“Good.”

Still on his fours, Steve guided him into the wide shower stall and hosed him off. Then quickly and carelessly washed his hair while pulling on it and nudging him to move here and there by just pushing him with the back of his hand or even a shampoo bottle as if touching his skin was contagious. When Steve got to his privates, it was as if Steve was cleaning up his paintbrushes; fast, efficient strokes with no worries about hurting them. Almost shaking with shame or possibly arousal, Tony wanted to disappear between the tiles.

When Tony twitched and grunted, Steve held his balls and barked, “Stay.”

Tony stayed.

Steve finished by rinsing him off and rubbing his skin dry as if it was a coarse rug in a random outhouse.

God, Tony thought, suppressing a shiver, he should stop comparing himself to inanimate possessions. Mainly because it was getting him hot and bothered and that wasn’t what this was about. Steve might even appreciate it, but Tony didn’t want him to appreciate it. What if Steve decided to do something about it? Tony wouldn’t be able to go through with it if Steve started treating him like a lover.

No.

He’d safeword first.

Not allowing Tony up, Steve guided him out of the shower. Goosebumps rose on Tony's skin and even though it was the direct result of a temperature change, his body translated it into another layer of arousal.

“You have five minutes if you need to do something besides brushing your teeth,” Steve said and exited the bathroom, and finished, “You can get up to take stuff or use the toilet but get down straight after.”

He left the door open.

“What, you going to listen to me poop?” Tony raised his voice slightly to be heard but still tried to insert some bite into it to mask his stupid arousal.

“You poop in the evenings,” Steve replied in the dull tone he’d used previously.

“What if that changed?” Tony challenged.

“If that's changed, you've not been eating regularly. You better poop any time during today or there's gonna be consequences. Now get on with it. Three and a half minutes.”

Something besides brushing his teeth? Sure he needed a good jerk-off session, how about that?

Tony did what he needed to, then got back down on his knees and waited.

He knew that Steve knew, Steve had a good enough ear but it seemed that he wasn’t in a hurry to rush back to Tony. He put the TV on, opened and closed the suite door, and by the sound of it, left. He must’ve gotten the text from the food courier.

Fantastic.

Tony was debating whether he should just jerk off here and there, but something in him balked immediately. Shit, was that subspace? He shouldn't really feel that different but touching himself when Steve had told him not to, felt like an impossibility. He thought of maybe standing up to be defiant or something, but it would only count if he also walked out and greeted Steve on his feet.

This whole set-up was Tony's idea in the first place, and it wasn’t about defiance, not anymore. They’d had enough of that during the war.

_“You could’ve brought it up!” Steve shouted._

_“I did bring it up!” Tony shouted back but then tried to compose himself. “You shot me down!” he went on, his voice harsh but quiet. “Any time I tried to talk about numbers you went all mourning families this and grief support that, Maria Stark Foundation funds and charity.” Tony was talking quickly, not letting Steve get in a word. “You never even heard me when I tried to tell you that the situation couldn’t go on like that, that it wouldn’t be tolerated forever, that to anyone who lost anyone or even to anyone who actually had any kind of political clout, would try to use it against us. That we looked callous and indiffer-”_

_“Avengers have never been indifferent to the loss of life!”_

_“I know! You think I don’t know that?”_

_Steve looked absolutely livid still as if it was all Tony’s fault and-_

_Tony walked out._

He was tired of fighting. Why was he even thinking about it again? His knees were aching, his head was hanging between his shoulder blades and he just wanted to crawl back to bed.

The door of the suite opened and Tony straightened. When he heard Steve directly behind the bathroom door, he started to rise.

“Down!”

Steve pressed his palm on Tony’s shoulder to force him down and Tony glanced up. Steve was in jeans a tight white T-shirt and to feel even remotely like himself, Tony leered at him arrogantly.

Steve stared at him for two seconds, frowned and pressed his lips together. Tony waited for the reprimand but Steve didn’t even talk to him, just reinserted the plug and cuffed a foot-long spreader between his feet. The plug felt good and bad at the same time: his body was kind of tired of it but also felt used to it. It was annoying and Tony wanted it out, but it also reinforced his helpless excitement at the idea that it wasn't up to him what was happening now; it was out of Tony's hands. Somehow that was freeing.

And then Steve fucked him with it for a few… twelve times and pulled it out.

“Fuck," Tony grunted, feeling stupidly grateful for… he didn't even know what.

“Shut up.”

Steve started to put the plug back... but it was not the same one. It was a cold, for one, and longer. And the more Steve pushed the clearer it became that it was actually a dildo with a significantly wider shaft and a flared base. By the time Steve got it in, Tony was having difficulty breathing and his cock was once again up, proud and weeping. Steve grunted as if in displeasure. Tony reveled in knowing better.

“I don’t think it’ll stay there,” Tony groused, his voice low and gravely from abuse.

“Oh, it’ll stay.”

Steve got a wide leather strap set and buckled Tony in. Tight. Tony bit off a moan.

“Up,” Steve barked, not letting Tony get accustomed to the sensations.

He was full, Steve was standing right behind him and Tony was trembling. The straps were biting into his skin, holding the dildo tightly inside and Tony wanted to squirm to find out what it really felt like when he moved, but he also didn't want Steve to catch on to how much it was turning him on.

Hiding it wasn’t in the cards, however, because the next thing Steve did was dragging Tony’s body up onto his knees by his shoulders. It might have been uncomfortable but the only sensation his brain was able to interpret at that moment was how the dildo felt inside him and how it was making his cock throb.

The thing was unwieldy in him, impaling him on something that moved with him and that he couldn't get off of himself or get off on for that matter. 

Tony wished Steve would touch his stupid dick because his own hands were unable to execute any independent action not authorized by the man standing behind him. He stood and waited. Impatiently, but somehow also with infinite patience, knowing that he’d wait as long as it took.

Steve stepped around him, walking slowly as if inspecting his possession. His toy that would only act as programmed, the way _Steve_ wanted-

Fuck, that was what subspace felt like, wasn't it? He’d never felt such a thing before, the way he just wanted to be what Steve wanted him to be...

No.

Blind with panic, Tony jolted, shook his head-

“No!”

Steve grabbed his cock and, assisting only a little, pulled Tony to his feet by it.

“Shit, Steve! Fuck! What are-”

“Shut up.”

Steve slapped him and Tony shut up just by the force of surprise.

He recoiled and Steve closed his eyes, turning away as if ashamed of his own actions, but Tony’s cheek was tingling and his cock was aching with need. His whole body was thrumming for a repeat and Tony swayed with the force of that emotion. It was pain, not shame that shook him, he told himself. He had no idea how it made sense but he wanted it. Needed it. More of it. And also, he didn't want Steve to feel ashamed of what he’d done.

“Steve,” Tony said quietly, almost moaning. “Please.”

Steve opened his eyes looking determined and grim and calculating. He was searching Tony's eyes to determine whether it was punishment Tony was seeking or pleasure, and Tony dropped his gaze.

“You want pain that bad, huh?”

Almost as if projecting his movements, Steve raised his arm and slapped Tony’s left cheek again. Tony’s head turned to the side under its force but Steve didn’t let him recover and struck his right. Then left and two times right again.

Tony stumbled backwards from the force of the blows, then planted his feet and closed his eyes in preparation for more.

Another blow didn’t land.

Tony waited for a few seconds more, opened his eyes and taunted Steve, “What’s the matter, Spangles? They included the blueberries after all?”

Steve didn’t answer. He looked determined, his lips pressed in a firm line; it looked as if he was suppressing something but whether it was more arousal or self-recrimination, Tony had no clue.

Steve grabbed at Tony's face and pressing at the sides, opened his mouth. The huge gag with the opening now closed was pressed in and the straps buckled.

“Shut. Up,” Steve hissed into his face with grim satisfaction.

Tony shivered as Steve hissed, “Shut up!” and put a pair of leather wrist cuffs on him.

Next, Steve looked him in the eye and almost shoved nipple clamps in his face.

“You wanted pain?" he gritted out, "you’re going to get pain.”

Suddenly Tony realized that Steve was upset. Probably angry with himself for some reason. Tony tried catching his eye, but this time it was Steve who avoided his gaze.

Steve clipped the nipple clamps back on and Tony hissed. Steve jerked at seeing his reaction and stilled.

Tony caught his eye now and bobbed his head in a slight nod. If hurting Tony would help him, he was all for it. After all, that had been the point: to put them both on even ground with each other again. To help them cope with the anger and resentment that they’d never been able to express through the usual means of communication.

After a short while, Steve nodded back and took an inch wide cuff that seemed too small to be for a wrist-

Oh. Steve fastened it around his sack and then tightened it.

Tony’s exclamation was muffled by the gag but Steve didn’t seem to care about what effect it was having on Tony. Or maybe… there was a hint of a smile; a tiny token of satisfaction; and that made warmth spread inside Tony’s chest too. Despite himself, the indifference, feigned or not, was making Tony more and more excited. A part of him, the reckless part, was hoping that Steve would notice, would do something about that, but another part instantly felt ashamed. This was not about that. Not about sex. He’d known from the start that there would be no sex. He hadn’t wanted sex, not like…

He hadn’t wanted this week _for_ the sex, and he’d thought that Steve wouldn’t want it even if Tony did. But then why…

“Hands.”

Tony raised his hands and Steve fastened another foot-long spreader bar between them, and with growing horror, Tony watched as he looped two narrow but sturdy-looking strips of metal chain through _everything_ including the cuff on his balls.

“Hands and knees.”

This would hurt. Shit. This would really hurt. Not the getting down part, that only made his insides quiver, but if Steve wanted Tony to crawl… Tony felt the tug in his balls and nipples when Steve fixed the chains to his leg cuffs. This was going to be hell. Tony glanced up at Steve, but the other man was staring right in front of himself as he took a long piece of-

Fuck.

As a final touch, Steve put a leash on Tony’s collar and without even looking back to see whether Tony could cope with the pace, started moving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know how you liked it! <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you synteis and BuckyAboveEverything for the great beta work!
> 
> Your encouragement kept me going! Love you! <3

Steve didn’t say a word, didn’t seem to worry much about Tony’s capacity to keep up with him even though the leash was short. Tony scrambled after him and just as he sorted out how to keep the pace, Steve lengthened his stride. Tony would’ve protested but there was a gag and all his energy was directed towards not tripping.

With the two spreader bars, his steps were measured and awkward, movement pulled on his nipples and his sack and Tony’s knees were probably starting to bruise.

Never letting go of his leash, Steve walked around the suite rearranging things just because he could, it seemed. He straightened the bedding, started the coffee in the kitchen and then returned to open the containers. At some point, he tied his end of the leash to the loop of his jeans and stopped paying Tony any attention completely. It was work to crawl that quickly, never mind lifting his head to swallow, when he noticed that saliva was dripping down from the left corner of his mouth. His arms were tired and his feet felt uselessly heavy behind him.

The dildo was filling him, stuck inside, dictating how he held his stomach muscles; the spreader between his feet controlling how long his (ridiculously short) stride was, which affected how he planted his knees; and the chains… just pulling on his poor sack.

His restraints decided on how his body was moving, not him. That, and the fact that it wasn’t up to him where he went, or what the purpose was...

It was liberating.

His cock throbbed. That was the part that his mind was stuck on now. Even bobbing from side to side with the semi-painful tugs on his sack, it was still hard and that would’ve been the most humiliating part of this exercise, if Steve had paid it any attention at all. But it seemed that it was just as Tony had requested.

Mindless struggle not to think but feel.

Liberating, yes. But… Tony had not imagined it this way. Not exactly. He’d imagined that Steve would…

Tony had imagined that all of Steve’s attention would be on _him_.

Clearly irritated, Steve spread his arms.

“And here we go again,” he said. “Everything is always about you! God, Tony! Read my lips: It’s. Not! About. You!”

God, Tony knew. Had known even back then, but Steve had told him that he should’ve tried harder and Tony… His head was starting to ache, and his heart was heavy and Steve… Steve was just doing what Tony had asked him to. Just as always, Steve was defying expectations. Tony asked for pain, and Steve was delivering the physical sensation as well as stabbing his heart while at it.

Suddenly, Tony noticed the aroma of coffee wafting in from the kitchen. Maybe his headache was just the result of caffeine deprivation?

His spirits automatically lifted, Tony raised his head, swallowed, and tried to keep very still for as long as possible: his nipples felt raw and his balls were on fire. Tony didn’t care, because there was coffee.

His cock had shrunk due to constant discomfort and pain, and maybe that was good, Tony thought. Until, to his utter horror, Tony realized that he was starting to lean in towards Steve’s jean-clad leg. In gratitude.

Fuck.

Tony straightened, and when Steve moved next, Tony stayed rigidly in place until the leash was taut between them. When Steve finally looked at him, his eyebrows drew together as if he was concerned, but Tony glared and Steve’s worried frown smoothed out immediately.

“Still putting up a fight, are you, Sparky?” His lips were touched by a sad smile for a fleeting moment. “You just never let go, do you?” He sighed. “We’ll see if the spark’s still there at the end of the week.”

You love my spark, Tony wanted to say, but Steve was already turning away, tugging on the leash. Grinding his teeth against the stupid gag in his mouth, Tony followed.

It seemed as if Steve was purposely going to and fro for as many times as he possibly could. He went to the kitchen to get bowls, took them to the living room and went back for cutlery, then the cups. Came back to turn on the TV and then walked to the bathroom to clean it up.

The pain was getting worse, so he was actually grateful that Steve left him behind the door, tying his leash to the door handle like he would with a dog outside a bar.

Humiliating as fuck, and a turn-on for his dick, because apparently, he had a need to experience all his humiliation here, between these walls in a safe environment. Maybe it would help? Maybe all the losses, failures, and the instances when he’d let down all those people who’d suffered at the hands of the Mad Titan, would feel less significant after this? Maybe the guilt would abate if he paid for it here and now?

Restlessly, Tony shifted, but it pulled on his sack and pain shot to his groin. He had to bite back his groan because despite the pain, his cock started to fill again. It was due to the sheer duration of the denial and stimulation that his excitement was peaking so quickly, Tony told himself.

It was fucked up that he was enjoying himself now, like this. Well, he wouldn’t for long, Tony reminded himself. He predicted that he’d really hate it when Steve untied the leash and started moving again. His arousal would probably recede due to the pain and…

But that was as it should be. Tony shouldn’t enjoy it, shouldn’t be able to prolong it, and certainly not ask for it. It was up to Steve now: which sensations he experienced, which emotions were invoked. Tony wasn’t here to dictate that any more. His brain wasn’t responsible for that. Whatever happened, Tony would just react.

He closed his eyes and breathed out. In. Out. Yes. This felt right. And if it helped them to wipe their slate clean, Tony was ready to suffer.

When Steve finished in the bathroom, he walked past Tony before returning to undo his leash as if he’d actually forgotten that tony was waiting for him there. Tony was sure it was part of the play. Pretty sure.

With a short detour, they passed the coffee table for a huge coffee mug, and went to the kitchen where Steve poured the coffee out.

Into the one mug.

Why one? Why hadn’t Tony noticed that he’d only grabbed one mug? Didn’t Steve drink coffee in the mornings or was the caffeine deprivation a part of the torture?

Unable to ask anything though, Tony hastily clambered after Steve, ignoring how his movements tugged on his balls and set them on fire.

Shit, shit, shit.

He was almost ready to safeword for the coffee right then and there. Steve wouldn’t- Steve wouldn’t, right? He _knew_ how Tony needed it, right?

Back in the main room, Steve sat down, tied To- the leash to the leg of the low table, took a small saucer, put it on the floor in front of Tony and poured some coffee on it.

What?

Next, Steve unbuckled Tony’s gag.

“Here, boy,” Steve said quietly as if actually talking to a pet. “Let me clean you up.” With some tissue, he mopped up the dribble on Tony’s chin and his beard. "Come on then, drink."

Tony was sitting on his haunches and unable to look up at Steve. He stared at the saucer in disbelief.

"I debated just giving you some caffeine pills,” Steve said conversationally. “Do you prefer them?"

The overwhelming relief that he was getting coffee after all was warring with the shock of how he was supposed to take it. Tony fought the image of himself lapping his drink from the saucer like an animal and told himself that he wasn’t doing it… No, just no.

"How about just some coffee the normal way?" Tony groused back.

"You want me to treat you the normal way?"

Steve's voice was carefully neutral. He was obviously checking in, and Tony internally sighed. If he wanted Steve to give him what he needed it was probably best if he gave Steve what he wanted in return.

"I can't believe we are doing pet play," he grumbled and not letting himself think any further, leaned low to the saucer and slurped up what was there.

God.

He was trying not to think, but it was impossible. Slurping was a noisy business, and very uncomfortable when the dish was on the floor. Had it been higher or if Tony had been allowed to use his hands, it would have been better, but that was what Steve had been aiming for, wasn’t it? To see Tony struggle; blush, swallow back his humiliation and try to be the perfect pet he could never be.

He would never be a perfect anything and this was just driving the point home.

Suddenly, he felt stupid that he’d ever imagined being anything other than just a man with a good brain and no heart. No decency. Whatever he did would always be flawed, so he might as well just be a pet and slurp his coffee from the bowl on the floor. At this moment, it felt right.

Right, but also embarrassing. Awkward. But Steve wouldn’t tell anyone. And that was the point at which Tony realized that Steve was only making him endure these embarrassing things simply because he wasn’t really a sadist and was trying to substitute inflicting pain with the humiliation play. And maybe also because he liked it. He’d liked making Tony crawl, after all.

It was weird how they both were just now discovering that they had a thing for this kind of play. Tony hadn’t known that it was something he could actually enjoy and Steve probably hadn’t expected him to either, so just in case, Tony shouldn’t display his arousal too openly.

It was supposed to be an ordeal for him, but as he was practically prostrated on the floor to drink up his coffee, the dildo, the stupidly thick mass inside of him, had somehow found a pleasurable spot inside him. The chains connecting his sensitive points felt now more stimulating than hurtful.

Or maybe his brain had started rewriting how it interpreted pain.

Well, the idea had been to take him out of his head and put his focus on his body, and that purpose was fulfilled plenty. There was nothing else Tony could think of right now. The gentle fingers in his hair made him startle, but Steve didn’t let go. Instead, his hold tightened and tugged him to the side. Tony moved involuntarily and the dildo in his ass somehow moved too. Into a position that was less pleasurable but just as intrusive, and the restrictive way he was bound pulled sharply on his sack… It was all too much and not enough. It was bliss and Tony wanted to touch himself so, so much...

God.

Steve was trailing his hand down Tony's back now, tapping at the base of the dildo protruding out of his hole. Tony bit back a shudder and blushed.

Shit.

Steve released him and refilled his saucer. Still shuddering with excitement, Tony leaned down to drink.

Steve ended up refilling the dish twice more and it wasn't nearly enough, but then Steve started feeding him and that felt fulfilling in more than the obvious way. Eggs, bacon and bagels, jam on something, orange slices... But shivering with steady arousal, the only thing he really wanted was to get off.

Steve patted his dick and Tony jerked. Fuck.

There was a devilish glint in Steve’s eyes when he took his hand away and asked, "But you wanted to suffer, right?"

"Fuck you," Tony replied, his voice shaky from trying to hide how much he enjoyed the indignity of being turned on by such treatment. "No," Tony said as he saw Steve picking up the fucking gag again. "Not on your life, Rogers! I'm not wearing that again!"

Steve stared at him for a moment searchingly. “I did wonder if you were still able to protest. I'm glad you are." He cupped Tony's cheek. "Now, open up."

Tony clamped his mouth shut and mutinously turned his head away. Steve lost his grip on his face but his large fingers found the pressure points again easily enough. Tony raised his shackled hands but quickly Steve stepped on the spreader bar to keep them down and pushed the fucking painful mass into his open mouth.

Tony almost groaned from resentment but then… The familiar ache in his jaw gave way to pleasure trickling down his insides and straight to his cock. He closed his eyes and forgetting that he wasn’t supposed to, reveled in it.

When he opened his eyes, Steve was staring at him, his face full of astonishment and raw need. For a long moment, their eye contact held but then Tony remembered that it wasn’t a romance here, not something beautiful; just something that they both needed. He looked away.

He couldn’t, wouldn’t believe that Steve really wanted him beyond the obvious. Yes, Steve had always loved his body and doing things to his body but as it was… the knowledge that that was all there was to it, hurt.

Steve would never again see Tony as anything other than a deeply flawed man who made all the wrong choices (by Steve’s standards) and never gave an inch. Tony knew he’d closed the door to any romance between them, and if they had this last week of physicality between them, Tony would make sure Steve got everything he needed out of this.

Jesus fuck, but tony was pathetic. Or maybe it was the subspace talking?

“Want more coffee?”

Steve’s voice was back to being strictly casual as if his breakfast partner wasn’t bound and gagged at his feet and Tony almost snorted.

“What am I even asking that for? Of course you do,” Steve muttered.

Well, you shouldn’t have gagged me then, Tony thought before realizing-

Yep, Steve was now removing the middle part with the ring in it and raising Tony’s chin to carefully pour some more coffee from his mug directly down Tony’s throat. He was careful, the trickle was slow enough that Tony could breathe and swallow between ‘sips’. But the bastard wouldn’t even let him taste it anymore and that was why Tony glared.

After breakfast, Steve led Tony to a wooden pony in the corner of the playroom. It was a waist-high beam on legs with a dildo mounted in the middle. 

Tony had only sat once on something similar after discovering that one of his partners had a fully-equipped dungeon at home. He hadn’t actually tried it out, though. Now Tony was vaguely regretting it. How was Steve planning to use it?

"You ever ridden it?" Steve said, pretending to make a conversation. "Let’s try it then," Steve added as if Tony had, in fact, replied. He released Tony of all his bindings except for the gag, collar and the wrist cuffs. “Enjoy it while you can.”

I will, Tony thought and even though a part of him was a little disappointed at Steve apparently going soft on him, another part was gleefully determined to get off. Tony knew he could get a prostate orgasm without stimulating his cock, so he stretched his limbs, got onto the high contraption where he could comfortably put his feet on the floor, and sighed mentally. The dildo mounted on the thing's back wasn't as large as the dildo that had recently been stretching his hole, but considering the stiff position at which the toy was mounted, that could only be a good thing.

Experimentally, Tony moved up and down on it and it felt like heaven. He was sure that with all the previously so pointless stimulation, he would soon reach his peak and fall over the edge. It also helped that with all the cleaning up Steve was doing, he wasn't even looking at Tony. Which meant that it wasn't Steve giving him pleasure, Tony was simply fucking himself on a toy.

Tony put his hands on the pony's 'mane' and using his arms and leg muscles lifted himself up and down several times.

Steve still wasn’t looking at him but… He knew Tony would be able to come which meant he wanted Tony to come. For a moment Tony stilled as he took another look. Steve's ears were pink so his aloofness was a purposeful ploy, and Tony started smirking. He was just making it uncomfortable for Tony, giving him the 'suffering' part along with the pleasure he was 'secretly' allowed to steal. Well, Tony could live with a little 'public' masturbation.

The thought spurred him on and settling into a good rhythm, Tony reveled in brushing over his g-spot in just the right way. Fuck, that felt good. He repeated it and stifling his groan, he increased his speed. Oh God, yes… there… right... there… His thighs had started to tire but his prostate was singing and Tony went quicker. Soon, soon… Now!

Tony closed his eyes, threw his head back-

And yelled into his gag because a pair of strong hands were holding onto his hips, lifting him almost entirely off the dildo and for a moment, Tony was suspended midair, stopped from sitting back down, his pleasure stalled, cock twitching.

"It's okay, I’ll let you get on with it soon, don't worry," Steve said, but something in his tone wasn't right.

Tony looked at Steve and groaned first his frustration but also his astonishment at seeing Steve's arousal. Mindless with lust, incredibly horny, Tony moaned into his gag, his body interpreting the interference as a pleasurable one.

"Yeah, that’s right," Steve murmured, lowering him back onto the dildo. “Just a moment more.”

He lifted Tony's right foot behind him and fixed it to the pony's back via the cuff that was still around his ankle.

Shit.

His other leg was fastened the same way and-

"Sh… it's okay," Steve reassured him quietly.

Tenderly, as if he was helping instead of hindering his progress, Steve took Tony's hands and fastened them behind his back wrist to elbow. They were now suspended in the middle of his back, absolutely useless.

"I remember you liking a cock ring that one time we used it. Thought we could try it again. I think you came with it on, didn't you?"

Fuck you, Tony thought at him. Yes, he’d managed it that one time. He grimaced because the other conditions were not replicated as well, but Steve was so desperately trying to conceal his excitement that Tony suddenly felt that yeah, maybe he could do it again. Despite fastening a thin rubber band around the base of Tony’s still weeping cock, Steve actually seemed to want him to-

No. He wasn’t doing it for Steve.

When Steve stroked his cock lightly, Tony shuddered and moaned involuntarily. Steve smiled, took a kitchen towel from his shoulder, and almost lovingly, cleaned the drool off Tony's chin.

"Enjoy," he said, walking off to resume pretending to tidy up in the kitchen.

Not even staying to watch, Tony wanted to shout, but the obvious dismissal had also another, by now a predictable consequence; a stab of fresh arousal shot through him, and mentally cursing his ability to get turned on by being treated like this, Tony started moving. He made no attempt at being completely silent, since Steve was just a room away, behind the open door, actively listening in, like a fucking voyeur. God, even that was a turn-on for Tony - putting on a show like that.

Employing his thigh muscles only, Tony lifted and lowered himself off and back onto the dildo. It felt good, very good, and Tony was still close. He could do it. He rocked himself shallowly, getting a feel for the best angle, and grinning through his gag, Tony started riding. He didn't need much, it was good, the toy was pressing directly on the prostate at just the right angle if Tony held himself in a certain way, and Tony kept on and on, fucking the dildo on a wooden pony, his muscles straining, low noises coming out of his mouth, eyes closed. Almost there, almost there, just a little bit more, just a little faster…

Yes. Yes, yes, but his thighs were getting tired, and his rhythm faltered. Just a bit more, Tony told himself, but he couldn't hit the spot every time anymore, so he stopped to rest for half a minute and started again.

However, the edge was even farther away now, and he had to chase it more diligently. He tried to at least hit the spot right, even if his rhythm was not as quick anymore. Surely the day’s long abstinence and the prolonged teasing would help?

He tried keeping the pace up but it was hard to even hold the right angle now and the precipice of the pleasure was starting to slip away. He opened his eyes only to see Steve standing in the doorway, staring at him with his gaze bright and burning. Proud. And suddenly it made Tony want to try harder. Emboldened and desperate, Tony renewed his efforts and for a bit he thought he could - Steve watching him was helping, but his thighs were on fire and he couldn't maintain the rhythm nor the angle anymore, and while still hard and leaking, the peak just wasn't there.

Breathing hard, he stopped. Steve's face was still pleased and he straightened, probably intending to help Tony off the beam, and defiantly, Tony started moving again. He wouldn't give up, he could do it. He could. He closed his eyes again to not see the triumph on his lo- on Steve's face and made a few dozen valiant efforts to chase his peak, but it was useless.

Grinding his teeth in anger and frustration, Tony stared down at the stupid thing he was sitting on.

"You finished then?" Steve asked with feigned curiosity, his gaze soft.

No, you little shit. I'm not finished.

Tony wanted to cry.

Ignoring Tony's wet glare, he came closer, and started unfastening his feet from the horse.

"You still can't back down from a challenge, can you?" Steve went on quietly. "I'm glad. I've always loved that about you."

The stupid word hit Tony in the chest, squeezed once, painfully, and let go, only to continue aching in his heart like a physical sensation.

Damn you Steve. You don't love me anymore, so why would you even allude to that? Don't you know how much it hurts?

"You did so well," Steve praised, and that too, only made it worse.

"Good boy," Steve murmured, massaging Tony's tired muscles before lowering his feet to the floor.

Tony tried standing on them and yes, he could, yes, the dildo was even at the better angle now, but the brief burst of pleasure was fleeting as Steve grabbed him under the armpits and lifted him off the pony.

Tony wouldn't beg. He wouldn't.

Steve guided him a little to the left and said, "Down now again, please."

And in less than three seconds Tony was down on the rug, lying on his stomach with his painful erection trapped under him.

Involuntarily, Tony moved.

"Stop." The word cracked like a whip through the room. "This week is not about your pleasure, remember? That was your rule, so don't go breaking it now."

Yes. Fair. But God, also so unfair, and Tony was an idiot.

Steve's hands were on his bottom, parting his cheeks. Tony shivered and Steve hummed casually.

"Not too bad, you've not managed to hurt yourself this time," he said. "Good boy."

That phrase again. A brief pleasure flared in Tony’s chest and he closed his eyes in mortification. To his embarrassment, it was slowly growing on him.

Steve didn't seem to notice, he inserted a plug, probably the one from yesterday which meant it was a vibrating one, and kneaded his tired shoulder muscles. It felt heavenly and Tony had to concentrate to not react.

Next, Steve cuffed Tony’s ankles together, fastened them to his forearms by a thread, and stepped away with a pat on his bum. Tony bit back a whimper.

“Don’t move,” he said, and walked somewhere farther into the room.

There was glee in his voice and Tony almost huffed.

That little shit.

Tony's cock was still full and throbbing. He wanted to move desperately, but this time he was going to be sneaky about it.

He waited until he heard Steve’s steps leave the room, counted seven seconds of silence, and moved. The rug was slightly too coarse but god, it felt good. Tony bucked the second time and a third.

“Stop it,” he heard a bark, grinned and, raising his head to watch Steve’s reaction, went at it.

“Shit. Tony, no!”

Steve leaped at him and turned him over; roughly, without finesse as if it actually mattered whether Tony got off like this or not, and although it sounded weird with the gag in, Tony cackled with glee at Steve's flustered face. Steve looked angry and embarrassed at Tony’s defiance. Tony had never done brat or punishment play before, but he discovered that it was really rewarding to see how his half-assed self-gratification attempt had knocked Steve straight out of the dominant position he'd been in. The satisfaction of that knowledge almost trumped the immense disappointment his cock was currently feeling.

Asshole, Tony said through his gag, still smiling around it. It was incomprehensible to his own ears but going by the flash flaring in Steve’s eyes, he clearly understood.

“Well,” Steve said and paused, taking a breath, as if unsure how to continue. “I can see that you’re not that tired and definitely not a bit cowed.”

Tony smirked and again, despite the gag, Steve could still read him perfectly. Decisively, he leaned over and grabbed the hair on the top of Tony’s head. He pulled at it and Tony had to push himself up with his bound hands behind himself to scramble up to his knees.

“Okay, listen up, you punk,” Steve growled. “You can either snap your fingers, or I’m fucking you here and now. Is that understood?”

Eyes wide, Tony's jaw went slack, his cock hardened back to its absolute fullness and he blinked yes.

Steve’s eyes narrowed. “Was that a yes? Because I’m not gonna force you but if you agree, you aren’t gonna enjoy it much. So what is it gonna be, Stark?”

His breath hitching, body almost shaking with arousal, Tony glared at him defiantly and gave him a very purposeful blink and a nod.

Uncharacteristically, Steve’s lips crooked into a scowl and he straightened up.

“Good, I’m happy you agreed,” he said, sounding anything but.

Then Steve unclipped Tony's wrists from his ankles, and not letting him regain his footing, took hold of his middle.

Shit.

Tony couldn’t really keep up on his shackled legs as Steve took three long strides towards the corner of the room, dragging him like one of his punching bags in the crook of his arm. 

There, near the wooden pony, stood a bondage horse.

Tesla almighty. Tony’s mouth went dry and he swallowed compulsively. He was going to get fucked.

Unceremoniously, Steve heaved Tony up and across the back of the horse. His head bobbed with the movement and he’d probably have bit his tongue if it hadn’t been pressed down by the painfully large gag filling his mouth. Tony wished he didn’t have to notice it every moment of the ordeal, but somehow, it felt important that he did. Then, Steve pressed his powerful palm in the middle of Tony’s back, unshackled his wrists from each other and fixed them low on the horse’s legs as far apart as possible.

Predictably, the position allowed Tony’s leaking cock no stimulation whatsoever.

What followed, was as predictable as it was not. That Steve just tore the plug out of him only to replace it with his cock, Tony expected, that he’d do whatever he could to _not_ hit Tony’s prostate, he hadn’t.

Shit, fuck, Rogers, Tony yelled into his gag, demanding attention to where Steve _knew_ was his pleasure centre, but Steve ignored him. He’d just grabbed his hips and kept ramming into Tony’s hole, seeking the only one end to this event: his own gratification.

There were tears in Tony’s eyes as he tried moving his body to meet the cock at the right angle but Steve's fingers were steel. Tony didn't care about the bruises that were forming on his skin, he just wanted Steve to hit… right… there…

Please.

His passage was just worked in enough for there to be no discomfort at the rough handling but the way Steve was doing it was...

Steve. Please.

It was cruel and now Tony was begging but Steve paid him no heed.

Steve's rhythm quickened and his thrusts became shallow, faltered and with a guttural noise coming out of his throat, Steve came. He pushed in and out a few times more, then stilled and leaned onto Tony's upper body for a few seconds. Ignoring how Tony's hips were desperately straining backwards for a little bit more contact, just a bit more… Steve pulled out, straightened and without a word, pushed the same plug back into Tony's hole.

Tony groaned in pleasure at the fullness, then whined. Steve stepped away. Apparently, there would be no immediate further play.

Fuck!

Instinctively, Tony's hips bucked forward, but neither the merciless air his dick encountered, nor the inanimate stopper in his ass provided any actual stimulation. 

Tony swallowed any other pathetic noises and looked back to see what Steve might be planning to do next. Steve kept surprising him. Not for the first time since Steve had arrived, Tony felt slightly out of his depth.

_"Pain, Steve, I'm talking about pain. I need someone to hurt me bad enough that I stop thinking about things that don't bear thinking about. And I couldn't do that with just anyone, you can see that, don't you? I'm sorry, but it has to be you._

_“So I'm asking you._

_“I'm sorry to do this to you but you are the only person I can trust to do that with and I know you_ can _do it, I know it. Even if we don't love each other in the same way, I still trust you and that has to count for something, right?"_

Steve was cleaning himself up. Getting dressed. What now? Why was he just leaving Tony here if he was finished with the play?

Then after a short while, Tony heard Steve disappearing into the bathroom. He didn’t turn to look but kept listening to the water run. Although he was still desperately aroused, it was also getting uncomfortable. How long was Steve going to be? 

When the bathroom door opened again, Tony heard Steve walk to the bed, here in the playroom. Pretending that he wasn’t, Tony held his breath and listened. Why did Steve just sit down? Did he take a book? A sketchbook? Or a remote? Or…? Apparently, Tony didn’t merit even a second thought. Whatever Steve was doing, the TV on the wall behind him and to the right stayed silent.

The uncertainty of whether it was all part of a game, or if Steve was really disinterested, made a dark pit start opening up in his gut...

Tony shifted on his feet, the metal clips on his wrist cuffs made noise and Steve gave a surprised sound.

"Right," he said as he got right up and, decisively walked back to Tony.

Relieved, Tony prepared himself mentally to be released, but Steve just kicked at Tony's ankles to get them move more apart. Ignoring Tony's grunt of surprise, Steve fastened his feet to the horse's legs in a very wide stance. It was uncomfortable and a very precarious position balance-wise, but the horse under him was heavy enough. If Tony weren't tethered to the fucking thing by his hands and feet, he'd probably fall over.

Okay.

Shit.

Still as silent as a man completing a solitary task, Steve checked all the bindings, wiped away the drool off his chin and the semen from his cock. Tony jerked from surprise and excitement, but that was the last touch Steve graced him with before giving him a glass of water through the gag opening and left him be.

The whole process had the feel of a daily routine to it; as if Tony really was a tool Steve used often. A tool, a toy, a… a thing that had to be cleaned and put away until the next time. Tony’s erection roared back to life and he moaned quietly at the humiliating realisation that Steve intended him to feel that, be that. Something that needed its limbs arranged, fixed in place, and in case it drooled, he’d wipe it off after each use.

Tony was tied facing the wall, so to see what Steve was doing, he'd need to crane his head back, but after being so thoroughly dismissed, Tony suddenly felt he had no right to demand any kind of attention. This felt right. Like he was. What he was.

So he didn't look.

Stayed.

Waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stole the science talk from here: https://www.popsci.com/story/space/new-horizons-data-shows-arrokoth-was-born-peacefully.
> 
> Betas: synteis and Bae - TY and ILY!! <3 <3 <3

Surely, Steve would do something soon, right? The wait was mind-numbing and the position uncomfortable. The longer he stayed, the less he liked it. At some point Tony’s stupid brain told him that he’d been waiting for 267 seconds. Then it added 93 seconds and Tony started counting primes.

His chest was resting on the leather bench, his butt was jutting out stupidly and his still mostly hard cock was dangling between his legs.

151, 157, 163, 16-

Jesus, how his legs were tired. And there was a hair stuck to his cheekbone. It was itching. He tried to rub it away with his shoulder but it didn’t quite reach that far and with his head down like this, his spit kept dripping onto the carpet. God, he was disgusting. No wonder that Steve was opting not to…

No this was stupid. Steve made him that way, Steve must like the view. He must be staying away because…

603 seconds which made ten minutes and zero point five minutes. 605 seconds now.

...was staying away because…

Fuck, if only Steve turned the fucking plug on, Tony wouldn’t be so bored. Bored, that was what he was feeling, yes. Not aban-

He tried clenching and relaxing his sphincter muscles around the toy, and to a degree, it helped. For a little while, Tony imagined that Steve was staying on the bed because he had a good view of Tony's bound form; trussed up, ridden hard and not even put away wet yet. Steve was probably planning on a repeat, right?

Tony's cock perked up hopefully and he almost groaned. Unable to help himself, Tony squirmed and clenched his muscles around the toy again.

God, but this time, it was actually working. For a short while, he got desperately aroused again. So he kept bucking his hips, totally forgetting that he might be giving Steve a show. When he did, he stopped, embarrassed but… Even if Steve hadn't meant to enjoy him like that, he’d caused Tony's predicament and it was only fair that he got subjected to seeing the consequences.

Maybe Tony could even manipulate him into actually doing something about it? Tony knew very well how many orgasms this supersoldier still had in him.

Determinedly, Tony repeated his hip movement, flexed all his muscles, moaned enticingly and tried fucking himself on a toy sitting deep inside of him. It was useless, of course, there was no hope for any actual movement or friction, so it only helped to maintain a certain level of arousal and his cock had been teased enough. It was starting to hurt to have so much blood trapped in his cock like this, but Steve didn’t even seem to care. Tony almost whined in frustration. Then he thought about it and whimpered plaintively.

Steve put the TV on.

Tony growled.

Steve chuckled.

Fourteen minutes and-

_-the outer reaches of the solar system in vain with ground-based telescopes, the orbit-based Hubble’s keen eye finally helped them spot two potential targets. One looked invitingly bright, but a visit would have burnt every remaining drop of fuel in the spacecraft. The team decided to stay flexible and roll the dice on the dimmer speck. In October of 2015 New Horizons fired its engines and headed toward the mystery dot, now officially known as Arrokoth, with no idea what they might find._

At least it wasn’t some idiotic reality show. For a while, Tony listened, stretching his muscles as surreptitiously as he could, and tried not to fidget. He couldn’t even see it, turned away, facing the corner like a naughty boy. It was the same sharp angle as he’d need to crane to see Steve, as it would be for the screen, only the other way.

After a bit, Steve changed to a business news channel, and even though a part of him was paying attention, Tony got bored again. He knew that the programs were chosen for him and he appreciated it, but what he really wanted was to _get off this. Fucking. Horse._

He jerked in his binds and growled again but the only response he got was Steve changing the channel to some mindless dating show. The Bachelor. Tony almost laughed out loud as he remembered the running gag about him participating in it.

Which was why he hadn't noticed that Steve was suddenly standing behind him. He yelped as the plug was removed and Steve unzipped. The bastard didn’t even warn him; just rammed in and started thrusting. It started off as blissful, but already on the third stroke Tony realized that yep, this was going to be more of the same: being fucked without care for his pleasure.

Incredibly turned on, Tony started cursing at him through his gag, but Steve pinched his nipples and hit his ass. It only drove Tony wilder. Desperately, Tony tried meeting his thrusts at the right angle for him but Steve’s grip was too strong and Tony was just earning himself more finger-shaped bruises.

Steve came quicker this time and Tony shouted at him, but Steve just put the plug in again, poured some water down his throat and patted his bum like he would a good horse.

Tony had never been so turned on in his life.

The second reprieve was longer. Or maybe it was shorter and it just felt longer? Tony had no idea. The only thing here knew for sure, was that this week was not going how he thought it would, but for the life of him, he had no idea why his brain kept insisting that it was a bad thing.

God. Steve.

Shit. Fuck.

_Please._

And Steve did fuck him again, and again it felt glorious and wretched. Tony was sore and he never wanted it to end, except for the fact that he really, really did. This purposeful neglect of his prostate was criminally cruel, and Tony’s hips started bucking as if there was any chance of getting some friction for his cock. But of course, it was useless. The rest of his body was like a live wire; every touch against his skin was electric and he wanted more.

He couldn’t have more.

This time though, after trapping his semen in Tony, Steve untied him. He even removed the cuffs. Astonished, hopeful and apprehensive, Tony turned to look at him, but Steve was avoiding his eyes. Tony's body was trembling with both exhilaration and exhaustion, so Steve had to support him by putting his arms around his waist. In a controlled drop, they sat on the floor with Tony between Steve’s legs.

The plug sat more firmly between Tony’s buttocks now and grinding down, he moaned. Reached to grab his poor neglected cock-

But Steve was quicker.

"Sh.." he said quietly, holding Tony's wrists away from his body with one hand, the other arm circling his middle to keep him in place. "Not for pleasure, remember? You wanted it to be about pain, Tony. Have you reconsidered?" He brought Tony's hands palms down to the floor and held them there. "Because it's fine if you have. I would like nothing more than to give you pleasure. But it has to be your decision."

Tony's shoulders went taut with tension. No. Tony couldn’t possibly decide that. If Steve wanted to give him pleasure, there was nothing Tony would be able to do about it, but to just let him? To ask for it? No. This was not what he wanted. Especially since Steve sounded so hopeful at the idea of Tony finishing this. Steve didn’t deserve to have this and neither did Tony.

Tony needed this week to wreck him and Steve would help him, no matter the cost.

The pain.

The truth.

The truth was that Steve didn’t want Tony anymore. That they were over. That Steve was better off without him. And that was something that they would teach Tony’s hindbrain this week. So Steve would have to buckle up and drive this point home. If he got a couple of orgasms out of it, so be it; Tony didn’t care. If Steve was having his new-found kinky itch scratched, let him. That was all that Tony would give him after all. Not his forgiveness. Not yet. If Steve didn't want Tony's love, he would have to work for forgiveness.

Tony shook his head.

He felt how Steve suppressed a sigh then stilled. "Are you sure?" he asked but by his tone, Tony could tell that Steve had already accepted his answer.

Tony didn’t reply.

"Fine." Stiffly, and obviously disappointed, Steve got up. "Can you walk?"

Tony didn't deign to answer that either. Pushing himself upward was a struggle but he managed. The arousal was still there, but not as dire anymore; at least it distracted him from the feeling of helplessness that the lack of clothes - and even more - the gag was creating in him.

"Bathroom," Steve said, hovering, probably afraid that Tony would fall over.

Determined to regain at least some measure of his dignity, Tony lifted his chin and swallowed back the saliva that hadn’t yet dripped out. Straightening his shoulders, Tony started walking.

It was only five steps to the bathroom but the plug was making his legs feel funny and his cock was bobbing in front of him, still full and hopeful. Tony wasn’t tied up in any way, but the situation itself was telling him that he was to do as Steve dictated. That felt right. If he was lucky, Steve would get carried away and let him come.

He entered the bathroom and stopped. What was he supposed to be doing here?

Tony could see their reflection in the mirror above the sink. Tony, standing in the forefront, naked, collared, with his cock still mostly hard and a precum on the tip. The fugly huge ballgag was stuffing his face, its three straps running toward the sides and up over his forehead, framing his nose. Disheveled and desperate, color high on his cheeks, hands balled into fists.

And Steve, standing just behind him, a bit taller, clothed into a tight tee and cargo pants, his hair a mess and face flushed, but composed, albeit staring hungrily at Tony as if he still hadn't had enough of him.

In control.

Steve looked in control and Tony wanted nothing more than to shatter that confidence. To hurt Steve back the way he’d hurt Tony with his hypocrisy. Hypocrisy about team mates being more important than the Accords, and the lies about his friends that were apparently more important to him than his boyfriend, and with the fucking high-handedly worded letter he’d sent, or the ancient flip phone that Tony, like a pathetic sucker, had carried around for far too long. He just wanted Steve to ache with loss and misery like Tony had. Like Tony was. He wanted Steve aching with grief, beaten down. Wrecked.

He wanted Steve to feel like Tony looked.

Tony averted his gaze from the pitiful display in front of him.

So. Steve seemed to have the power here. But what he most wanted, he wouldn’t get. If Tony was the face of his forgiveness, then for now, Steve would have to settle for a couple of orgasms instead.

What?

"Do you actually need the plug out?" Steve repeated.

Tony blinked at Steve’s reflection.

Steve stared at him with a strangely intent expression on his face that Tony categorized as his ‘strategizing face’. Tony tried shrugging as nonchalantly as he could. He’d prefer the gag out over the plug but he was loath to show Steve his hand so easily.

"I mean, unless you need to go, I'd rather leave it in," Steve explained in a reasonable voice as if he were a doctor discussing medical procedures. _Would you prefer a walking frame or a crutch?_

Tony tried to suppress his shiver.

"But bear in mind that if we take it out now, later, I'll insert a bigger one,” Steve threatened. “So which will it be? Out?"

Tony swallowed. He shook his head.

"You sure?"

Tony nodded.

"Fine."

This was turning out to be the least favourite word ever. Latey, Steve always sounded like something was rotting in his mouth the way he said it.

Fingers at the buckle of his collar startled Tony. His gaze turned back to Steve’s but Steve wasn’t looking at him.

Wasn't the collar supposed to be some kind of symbol for what they were doing here? Apparently not.

"Get into the bath."

Tony stepped over the rim and into the large ceramic basin where Tony and Steve could both easily fit.

"On your knees. Face the wall."

Ah. That explained it. Tony did as he was told. Surprisingly, his knees weren’t protesting, having somewhat gotten used to hard surfaces, and oh thank fuck, Steve started unbuckling his gag. Yes!

“Don’t speak. One word, and I'll shove it right back in.”

Tony grimaced. Even getting it out hurt. Steve rubbed a little at his facial muscles as Tony moved his lower jaw from side to side to loosen it. Then, like a dentist who didn’t want his patient to close his mouth, Steve got two of his fingers between his teeth.

"Don't close it," he said, giving him a rubber bit gag between his teeth instead. "There are no straps on it, so you’ll just have to hold it by yourself. Clear?"

Tony’s lips scowled in understanding but Steve didn’t reprimand him.

So. Apparently, he was going to get a choice about a butt plug but not about the gag. Curious. The thick stick in his mouth felt better, and at the same time, worse because while it was a lot smaller, he had to actually bite down on it to keep it in. Still, it was, at least, different.

Steve turned the shower on and doused him in lukewarm water. Then he shampooed Tony’s hair and used a cleaning rag to soap up the rest of his body. All his crevices got about equal amount of attention, including his ticklish toes, and his privates that tried to swell again but Steve paid them no mind.

Tony felt stupid just kneeling there, doing nothing. Especially when Steve wiped between his ass cheeks, but to Steve this seemed to be almost like a routine. Had he done this before? Was Steve doing it because he had to, or was he enjoying it? Both? He certainly seemed to know that the lukewarm water would feel as if Steve was utterly uninterested whether Tony felt soothed or tormented, treating him just as a tool needing maintenance.

It was working. It was definitely making him feel like something to be used and discarded. Tony knew that these factors had the potential to be as bad as physical pain. Having the dignity of clothes and the right of speech taken away was designed to play with his head, and Steve was succeeding. And since the context was what it was, it was turning Tony on. Not that he’d planned it that way, probably… But was it possible that Steve actually liked treating Tony as his toy slave? Tony’s cock twitched and he had to suppress an unwanted surge of hope.

Pathetic.

No, an alignment of found kinks didn’t change anything. It wasn’t as if they’d been bad at sex before.

Tony closed his eyes for a moment, enjoyed the cursory, impersonal rub-down and told himself that nothing had changed.

And that was the moment that Steve doused Tony’s cock in cold water. Tony bristled, grit his teeth around the gag but stayed quiet. It was supposed to help him, Tony guessed, but it only hid the outward sign of his physical readiness. None of the inner thrum pulsing under his skin calmed. Well, it was better than nothing. At least Steve couldn’t see the evidence any more.

For drying, Steve ordered Tony out but didn’t tell him to kneel and simply threw him a towel. For a minute, Tony was alone in the bathroom, drying himself and still holding the gag in his mouth like a good boy.

Why?

Before he could talk himself into any acts of defiance, Steve was back and beckoning him out into the main room where there were clothes on the bed.

“Get dressed.”

What?

He stared at Steve.

“We are going out for lunch and you are going to be a good boy and get dressed quickly so I don’t have to wait for you."

He sounded stern, but also as if he had no doubt that Tony would do exactly as ordered. And flexing his jaws around the trowel in his mouth, Tony did. Because… It was the thing in his mouth, he finally realized. And Steve had known it, that was why he’d carelessly removed the collar but continued to control Tony’s mouth.

This was what made Tony feel obedient. Helpless.

So the thing that made him submit was his loss of speech. Curious. Or was this subspace? He didn’t feel any different besides just wanting to do what Steve told him. Should he fight it? Spit the gag out? Tell Steve to cut it out and just whip him? Would it be worth it? Or should he trust that Steve knew what he was doing?

Taking a deep breath, Tony stepped closer to the bed and picked up the thing that Steve had apparently thought was appropriate underwear for him. Raising his eyebrow, Tony waved the fleshcoloured piece of cloth at Steve.

“Yes, it helps you to hide your erection, should you get one. I know how horny you are on your best day,” Steve said as a matter-of-fact. “Go on then.”

Tony snorted. He’d slept with enough dancers to know what a dance belt was for. So far he’d only ever seen it worn and had never thought of it as a particularly sexy thing, but when he put it on, the soft stretchy material clung to his crotch in the most enticing way. Trying to ignore the stirring in his gut, Tony got the dark button-down on, then the trousers, socks and shoes. Bending over with the plug in him was another matter and to stave off his unwanted excitement, his mind went: Obie in a tutu, Donald Trump, Donald Trump in a tutu, Obie dancing Macarena. His lips twitched which made him remember the cylinder in his mouth and he glanced at Steve who was leaning against a door jamb. His face was an unreadable mask, but his whole stance - arms crossed over his wide chest, the intent burning gaze trained solely on Tony - made it clear that he found the sight of Tony dressing erotic.

Tony suppressed another shiver and felt the need to stretch to relieve the pressure building up in his body, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want Steve to know how the whole situation was affecting him. Especially not the gag situation.

Turning away, Tony finished dressing, but before he could indicate his readiness, Steve stood up straight and gave him a onceover. Apparently he passed muster, or close enough; Steve turned to open the door. As if pulled by a magnet, Tony followed him, but just at the threshold, he stopped. Surely, Steve didn’t expect him to walk out of the room with that thing in his mouth?

Steve glanced over his shoulder, blinked and said as if surprised, “Oh yeah!”

He came back in, took a short screwdriver from the end table and swiftly replaced the rubber thing in Tony’s mouth. The screwdriver’s handle was less than an inch wide and Tony was holding it like a cigar in the corner of his mouth, so that felt alright. Next, Steve stepped out of the room and bent down to lift two large boxes which he then deposited right into Tony’s hands.

“Let’s go.”

It was ingenious really, Tony now looked like he was so busy with carrying his stuff that he’d forgotten to put the screw driver into his pocket. Natural for anyone to see Tony like this really. Except for the stupid feeling Tony had because of Steve walking in front of him like a king and the plug in his butt being invasive and... annoyingly arousing every step of the way. Literally. Every step he took here was longer than those he’d taken inside the room, so the placement and sensation was absolutely different. Even though smaller than the dildo, the plug was still a very light press, release, press, release on his prostate. More like a momentary touch, a gentle caress.

It was making his skin tender, sensitive.

Getting from one of the top floors to the underground garage took little time, but thankfully, they didn’t encounter anyone. Steve beeped his car open, lifted the trunk door and nodded towards the boxes in Tony's arms. Tony unloaded and started taking the screwdriver out of his mouth, but Steve’s quiet but determined voice stopped him.

“No. Put your hands in your pockets and don’t take them out.”

Right.

Trying to look for the world as if chewing tool handles was high fashion, Tony walked over to the passenger’s side and got in as Steve held the door open for him.

“You made a lot of rules for this week and I’ve not demanded anything of you,” Steve said, putting the key into ignition. “But now that I’ve had time to think, I have come up with a few rules of my own." Staring straight ahead, he started to drive out of the garage. "The first rule we've already been practising is that you don’t make any demands on how I choose to make you suffer. You requested this week thinking of physical pain, but I’m not going to hurt you like that. That time in Siberia…”

Steve trailed off and Tony could hear him swallowing heavily but didn’t dare to look at him. Tony didn’t want to talk about Siberia at all, but either unaware of it, or simply ignoring it, Steve went on.

“What happened in Siberia is on me," he said. "I didn’t tell you the truth when I could have, and by doing that, I hurt you. I get it. You attacking Bucky was… Not ideal, but understandable.” Steve paused as if thinking of how to continue. His attention seemed to be on the traffic but that was probably only a functional processing; Steve was good at multitasking. “If you want me to hurt you because you feel guilty over what happened with Bucky or because we fought in that Hydra bunker… it's completely unnecessary. It wasn’t your fault. It was mine.” 

Steve paused. Swallowed. “Same with Thanos. Not your fault. You tried. Out of all of us, you tried the hardest to make us see even before everything happened and we… I… I should’ve listened to you. I know that now.” Steve’s fists tightened on the wheel for one short moment before he relaxed them. “And above all else... I regret how we… what happened with us.”

Tony couldn’t breathe.

God.

What? What was Steve even saying? Was that really an apology? After all this time? Screwing his eyes shut, Tony turned towards the tinted window and tried taking calming breaths.

Steve turned into the parking lot and stopped the car.

“Tony?” There was a short pause. “Tony, do you want to respond to what I’ve just said?”

Tony didn’t. With unseeing eyes, he stared at the random building they’d stopped at. He wasn't hungry anymore.

So, Steve was sorry for not listening to Tony. Good. They were in agreement there. And all the rest… Steve seemed to regret a lot of things. Fighting with Tony. How they broke up. Understandable. After all, they’d been lovers prior to that, and these things always hurt even if you didn’t really love them the way they loved you.

“Tony?” Steve glanced back at him then, but Tony kept looking away from him. “Do you want to respond?” Steve repeated.

What? Yeah. No. Tony shook his head.

“Want to tell me something else then?” He waited a beat. “Anything at all?”

When Tony didn’t reply, Steve reached out as if to take the screwdriver but Tony jerked his head away and glared at him.

Steve sighed, and barreled on, as if it was taking all his courage, “Okay. Well, at least now you know that I’m sorry for hurting you. I know that maybe you’ll never forgive me, but… Maybe it will be easier if you know that the main reason I didn’t tell you about Bucky was because I was trying to figure out how to tell you so that it would hurt you less. Well… You know how that turned out.” Steve shrugged self-consciously. “I am sorry.”

Yeah. He was sorry. It wasn’t like Tony hadn’t known. He also knew now that Steve never expected Tony to take the news in any other way than he had: with mindless violence. Suddenly, feeling deeply ashamed, Tony lowered his head and stared at his lap. He wanted to apologize. Apologize for being an idiot, for not believing Steve’s gut feeling about Barnes’s innocence, for his impulsivity when he did find out, and for being such a wretched human being. And most of all, for not building the suit of armour around the world. But that wasn't something he could actually apologize for. Not to Steve, not to anybody. That would just be stupid.

He had to just let go and that was what this week had been designed for.

Well, at least they were talking; despite him not even being able to lift his head, the one-sided conversation indicated that they were getting somewhere. At least there was no yelling or accusations. But Tony wasn’t anywhere near ready to say anything to what Steve had said yet either, and Steve would just have to accept that.

"Nothing?" Steve turned to look at him.

Tony didn’t react. The words lodged in his throat didn’t want to come. That was good. If he could get them out, God knows what they would be. Lots of 'I’m sorry’s and 'I love you’s probably. The screwdriver was a blessing really.

The week was nowhere near to being up yet, so Tony stayed silent and hoped that Steve would just drop it. After several excruciatingly long seconds, Steve did.

“Okay, moving on,” he muttered. “The second rule, and I absolutely insist on it, Tony, is that _nothing_ I’ve put on you, or inside you is going to come off unless I personally remove it. You don’t touch yourself or any of the clothes or toys unless it’s somehow physically harmful or if you are having an anxiety attack. Is that understood?”

Tony nodded. They were still playing. Good. The unspoken apology was still simmering away in Tony’s gut, but it wasn’t trying to suffocate him any more. Now that Steve was laying out his rules for the rest of the week, Tony could breathe easier. The freedom of not having to decide about it settled lightly on his shoulders like a warm blanket.

Since there was no way Tony was taking the screwdriver out of his mouth himself, he couldn't talk and that was okay. Tony’s hands in his pockets didn’t even twitch. Vaguely, Tony realized that a part of him must be thoroughly subspaced but he didn’t have the fortitude to be worried about it any more. Maybe that was for the best. Let Steve do the worrying now.

Steve nodded, probably to himself, and took the keys out of the ignition.

“When I take the screwdriver out of your mouth," Steve's tone was bland, as if stating the rules and not expecting any other input than compliance. "This is not a permission to speak. And your hands remain in your pockets at all times until we sit down. Then I will give you your phone - it will remain switched off - and you will hold it in your left hand until you give it back to me when we leave. At no point can you put it down nor speak unless you’ve asked for permission first." He reached out to Tony's mouth but then pulled it back. "And it's been _granted._ Is that understood?”

Somewhat floored and incredibly turned on, Tony nodded. His sphincter muscles were clenching around the plug, his cock was twitching inside the tight underwear, and his fingers were in tight fists in his pockets.

Steve stared at him for a beat more and by God, Tony was sure that Steve was reading him like a book. His satisfied 'good,' at least attested to that.

Pointedly, Steve looked down at Tony’s crotch and said with a smile in his voice, “Don’t get hard.”

Right. Yeah.

Steve took the screwdriver, threw it into the glovebox and went to open Tony's door. Thankfully, in the small hole-in-the-wall eatery, Tony only needed to smile and nod as he took the menu with one hand and held the other one in his lap with the phone clutched in it.

The plug and the phone were the only two points of control Steve was veilding over him but somehow that was all he needed.

“Are you ready to order?” the nice young waitress asked them, looking at one and the other in turns.

“Yes, thank you,” Steve said. “We’ll both take the poutine. Veal for me and fish for him, and the house wine, please.”

Tony stared at Steve in disbelief. He had never before had someone order for him. And definitely he’d never had Steve being such a little shit that he’d ordered him _a house wine_.

The second the waitress was out of earshot, Tony opened his mouth and Steve’s eyes narrowed. Tony closed his mouth. He cleared his throat, but he couldn’t make himself say anything.

“If it’s about the food, don’t bother,” Steve said, but his whole face was a challenge and momentarily, a corresponding emotion flared in Tony’s chest.

“Permission to speak,” he got out quietly.

Steve had a very good hearing and the satisfaction on his face hit Tony straight in the groin. His gut clenched just as his asshole did, his cock tried to straighten out fully, but it was quite uncomfortable, so since they were sitting in the booth, Tony’s free hand flew down to assist.

The expression on Steve’s face could be called nothing if not pure smugness.

Tony inhaled. Well, if he was going to be like that…

“If that’s how you want to play it, you might as well start hand-feeding me here and now. Let me lick,” Tony said sinuously, “your fingers.” He wet his lips and went on even more quietly, “Or order me on my knees and your cock in my mouth, because that’s what you really want, isn’t it? To use my mouth, to control it with absolute power.”

Tony let all the pent-up passion for his ex-boyfriend burn in his eyes and slid his gaze from Steve’s eyes toward the point on the table under which the superserumed dick lay. It was more than likely that it was half-hard now.

Tony smirked, and went for the kill. “Did you really think that you could control _me_?”

Steve did not look in control anymore, but neither did he look angry or upset in any way, in fact, he looked-

The buzz in Tony’s bum startled him so much that his fork clanked against a plate. The fire that lit in his groin was instantaneous and his mouth closed with a click.

“Permission to speak denied,” Steve said with obvious relish. “Drink up.” He nodded at the glass beside Tony’s plate.

His mouth parched, Tony drank.

Tony tried speaking up a couple of times more, but every time he opened his mouth, Steve pushed the button and the vibrations intensified. His situation was quite bad now; Tony was grinding down on his seat, burning with the need to touch himself, unable to concentrate on anything around him. He imagined that everyone in the vicinity could hear the buzz now and that was making him want to beg Steve to turn it down at least a little, but he didn’t dare to open his mouth any more, so he didn’t.

The food appeared in front of Tony and using his one free hand, he made himself to transport the forkfuls to his mouth and chew. He had no idea what it tasted like. His left hand was clenched around his phone and he was staring at Steve, pleading with him to stop this madness.

"Yeah, eat it all up, my sweet. If you pause too long, I could get anxious… I mean, you don't want my button finger to twitch, do you?" Steve asked, his lips quirking.

At some point the intensity came down, but just when Tony started feeling more confident about his surroundings and what he was doing, Steve's finger ‘twitched’ again. Seemingly just for the fun of it and Tony tried to give Steve a half-hearted glare.

Eating one-handed wasn’t really that uncomfortable but Steve changing the settings of the vibrator was making him zone out and forget what he was doing.

“Open up, now honey, that’s it, now chew like a good boy,” Steve mocked him.

Sweat on his forehead, Tony didn't reply.

“Anything for dessert?” they were asked at some point and Tony begged Steve with his eyes for him to refuse.

"Sure." Steve smiled easily at the woman. "Something with a lot of chocolate, please. Also, one green tea and a black coffee."

He raised his piercing eyes to Tony's and pushed the plug into a new (so far, the highest) setting.

The vibrations in his butt had now enveloped his whole body and the tremors might be visible to anyone looking at him. Shifting on the plug, Tony thought he soon would not only be creaming his unconventional underwear, but also burst the bulk of his semen into his pants, and wouldn't that be fun?

He tried to sit extra still.

“You look beautiful like this, Tony.”

Tony looked down and noticed that the dessert was placed in front of him.

"No, no, the coffee is for me, he will have the tea," Steve said.

Tony gripped his phone and stared at his- at his… hi-

Steve.

"Permission to speak," he gritted out when the waitress left.

"Denied."

Tony inhaled, opened his mouth-

The plug shut down entirely.

"Per-"

The plug came to life, cutting him off again.

"Don't bother," Steve said coldly. "I'm going to be making sure you have everything you need but at no point are you going to be comfortable." He took out a small mint box and put it in front of Tony. "Here's your caffeine. Enjoy it if you can."

The plug’s intensity level rose and shaking with something like excited rage, Tony took the pills.

  
  
  


When they got back to the tower, the plug shut off, and trembling with relief and disappointment, Tony pressed his teeth tightly around the screwdriver and carried the boxes upstairs.

Steve took the boxes and the screwdriver, but the thing that appeared in his hand next, gave Tony chills.

"No. No I'm not wearing that again. No."

He stared at Steve just because he couldn't bear to even look at the huge uncomfortable ballgag he'd been wearing almost nonstop since the beginning.

"That is my rule three, Tony. You always wear that. You are going to be wearing it until you learn to love it. Now open up."

Tony swallowed.

"And you just broke the rule about speaking out of turn, do you want to make it even worse for yourself?"

A shiver of intense arousal went down Tony’s spine. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to nod or shake his head, so he did nothing.

Steve smiled. "You have a choice, Tony, you either open up of your own volition or I’m gonna make you."

Tony gave it two seconds and opened his mouth. Taking a step closer, Steve looked as if he’d known how this would go all along. He raised the gag to Tony’s mouth, pushed it in and buckled it on.

And oh fucking god, it wasn't even this uncomfortable anymore. Just… debilitating. Tony felt so thoroughly put in place as if he was already naked and in chains.

‘Undress’ and ‘get on your knees’ inevitably followed, and soon, Steve was walking around him, taking in the familiar sight. "I don't like it.”

What?

“Get up."

Oh? Capricious much? Tony stood.

"Legs apart, bend over, hands on your knees. Wider." Steve kicked lightly at one ankle and walked behind him. "Yes. Good. Now hold."

The plug came to life and Tony groaned. Humming, Steve resumed walking around him as if admiring a statue, then he raised his hand to Tony’s nape and slowly, lightly, trailed a finger down his spine. Goosebumps rose on his skin, and by the time Steve's finger reached its destination between asscheeks, Tony was holding his breath.

Steve just flicked at the base of the plug and stepped away.

Tony moaned.

After a moment, Steve returned with the lube and started applying it generously around the base of the plug. His eyes closed, feeling dizzy, Tony was panting.

Had Steve really meant it when he said that Tony wouldn't be coming for the whole week? If yes, then why would he even tease Tony like this?

Without turning the plug off, Steve started moving it from side to side, up and down and back and forth. Then in and out.

Tony forbade himself from making any noises but despite biting into his lower lip, a moan still escaped. And then another. Fuck, Tony's breath was short and his legs trembling. Then, in a shocking move, Steve grabbed Tony's cock and started jerking him off. Tony almost stumbled but Steve encircled his waist from behind and went on to yank at his cock, quick and short, holding just slightly too hard - painful, but also painfully arousing.

Oh go, oh god, oh-

Tony gave up on keeping silent; it was a struggle to simply stay upwards.

"You can come if you can," Steve said, "but only during the next minute."

Oh, fuck! Tony yelled, bucked and jerked, and Steve let go of his cock, taking him into a chokehold for support.

"Not like that," Steve admonished, ignoring Tony's wailing. "You can't move. You move, I'm letting go. Understand?"

Frantically, leaning into Steve for balance, Tony nodded.

Steve let go of his neck, put one hand on his right nipple, pinched it and then kept holding it in his steel grip. Tony grunted.

"Keep still," Steve said, removed his arm from around Tony's waist and took hold of his balls.

Squeezed firmly. Then harder.

"Tell me to stop," he said and continued applying steady pressure.

Tears in his eyes, Tony panted; the iron grip of Steve's fingers tightened even more, and Tony keened. His own fingers tightened around his kneecaps, held on- 

And yelled, "Stop!"

The pressure disappeared and Steve was cradling him from behind as before but now even the chokehold felt as a tender embrace, almost loving.

God, no.

Please, Steve, no.

“Well done, Tony,” Steve praised him quietly, “You did very well.”

The words made his heart constrict, but Steve’s hand was on his shaft again, pumping his cock up and down, hard, slow, firm and not in any way he’d ever done it before. It was delicious simply for the fact that it was how he _chose_ to touch him. Steve knew it was too tight and too fast for Tony and he still did it. Tony trembled, panted and hoped for the best.

"One minute, Tony," Steve said, and oh God it was the most unpleasant, the most efficient, way to bring him to orgasm.

Tony closed his eyes, trembled, and tried to keep still.

"Forty seconds."

God, Tony wasn't ready. Steve wasn’t doing it right and Tony needed to move to fix it. He couldn't move. Just a bit longer - please!

"Ten seconds."

Almost there almost there, almost–

Steve let go and almost toppling over, Tony cried out.

"It's okay," Steve said, sounding unaffected, "you can try again later."

Still holding him around his waist, Steve pushed Tony onto his knees, pulled his hands behind his back and fastened them there.

Tony struggled.

Fuck you!

Tears of frustration streaming down his cheeks, Tony cursed and pleaded, but Steve simply patted him on the bum and went to retrieve a posture collar from the sofa.

So there were going to be more restraints. Okay. Furiously huffing and puffing, Tony allowed the collar to be fixed around his neck, but when Steve started lifting his writs to the back of his neck, Tony grunted a ‘no’ and resisted. 

He knew it was no use, but somehow, Tony didn’t feel like cooperating any more. Tony tried shuffling away, but Steve just topped him onto the floor face first and fixed his wrist cuffs to the collar’s lower edge. They were now suspended high in the middle of his back and angrily, Tony growled and tore at them. 

Next, Steve put his own knee on Tony’s left calf and grabbed the other with his hands. Soon a spreader bar was between Tony’s feet and it was a lot wider than it needed to be. He pulled Tony up onto his knees again.

“See that you don’t topple over, will you?” Steve mocked him and knocked Tony’s right knee out from under him. Tony cried out and would’ve fallen if Steve hadn’t grabbed his wrists from behind.

Tony placed his knees again and cursed at Steve through his gag.

Steve chuckled grimly and the plug in Tony’s butt went crazy. Tony’s breath hitched and he jerked from surprise. Now keeping himself upright was even harder. There was no way he could try and adjust his stance to something that would make the plug sit in him at a better angle or make him enjoy it more or less, or change anything at all. All he could do now was stay still and try not to fall.

Now, Tony had no idea what Steve was doing or for how long. At some point, there were suddenly supersoldier hands on him, dragging him towards the bondage horse. There was no way to aid or sabotage the progress and soon, Steve just lifted him and pushed his chest over the wide expanse of the contraption’s back. Steve fastened Tony’s collar to the horse's front and left him there.

That fucker.

Steve wound up fucking him five times over the next two hours. After the second time, he removed the spreader bar, tied his legs together at the knees and ankles and fucked his thighs. Despite Tony’s hole being too tender, a part of him was still disappointed. The plug was the vibrating one though, because apparently, he also needed some ‘entertainment’. It was better than nothing but definitely not enough, nor even at all what he wanted. It was…

Frustrating.

Twice more, Steve fucked his thighs and for the last time, he even held Tony’s cock, lightly at first, then more firmly, but it still wasn’t enough, not nearly enough… And despite not letting Tony anywhere near an orgasm, Steve was also tender. God, how tender. When he finished, Steve had to wipe not only Tony’s drool but also his tears. The gentle care and attention he was doing it with was playing on his mind and Tony pretended that this was not why he was crying.

Afterwards, Steve untied him and one thing at the time, removed all his restraints, handling his limbs softly and tenderly, his face serene. With each cuff removed, Tony’s exhaustion and despair were replaced with peace and acceptance. The gag and the plug still in place, he silently let himself be guided into the bathroom and helped into the bathtub full of warm water and scented oils.

The world around him seemed soft and muted, the noises in his head were quiet. Steve removed the plug and the gag and bathed him. His touch was firm when needed and always gentle. There was no need for words.

It was only after Tony was being dried with a big fluffy towel, that he realized that despite everything that seemed to have gone wrong earlier, not once had it even occurred to him to safeword.

Should he have? Should he now?

Tony frowned and thought… No. Everything was as it should be. Wasn’t it? He was still half-hard, but it was dying down and felt utterly irrelevant now. Steve wasn’t angry anymore, and neither was he. That felt good.

This time, Tony didn’t even try to fight the huge gag. It sat comfortably on his tongue, stretching his lips out, robbing him of his autonomy of speech and making him look a ridiculous drooling fool. A muted sort of pleasure spread from his stuffed mouth towards his cock and made it stiffen a little.

Steve hummed with surprised disinterest. “Starting to love it, I see.”

Tony would’ve protested but somehow it was unimportant to do that.

Again, Steve took hold of Tony's cock and balls and tucked them into a smallish tight flesh-coloured pouch that fastened with a simple stretchy band around the base.

“Poor cock, so neglected… Well, I don’t really want to look at it anymore,” Steve said.

Tony looked at what Steve was doing and thought it was weird, Steve had always liked his cock before. Was this a game?

“See how tiny and pathetic it looks now?” Steve continued, bouncing the clothed sack on his palm.

Tony shivered, moaned quietly and enjoyed how his cock tried filling out but encountering a cloth barrier just strained on, aching. The material felt awesome and terrible, but contrary to how Tony wanted to fight everything before, this now felt relaxing. Steve liked his cock this way, so it would stay this way until Steve said otherwise.

In the living room, Steve put Tony on his knees and his arms into a leather arm binder. Next, Steve fixed two spreader bars between his knees and feet. As ever, they were both slightly too long to be comfortable, but when Steve pushed Tony’s chest into the sofa and started working on systematically widening Tony’s asshole, that became irrelevant.

Steve was working the third larger plug into Tony that he finally realized what Steve’s intention must be.

How big exactly did he intend to go?

His ass was still moderately sore, so the stretch and the glide were making it all a little uncomfortable. The dichotomy between wanting to be left alone and brought off wasn’t an issue anymore. Steve wanted to stretch him, so Tony’s whole was going to get stretched. He was being careful, and Tony waited.

The third plug felt a lot bigger than Tony had ever worn.

Oh god, oh fuck.

Oh shit.

He moaned.

At the fourth size, Tony couldn’t help but make an alarmed sound.

“It’s okay, I’m being careful,” Steve said soothingly, but there was a twinge of dark determination to his tone that sent a frisson of fear and excitement down Tony's spine. "Bear down now, would you?"

Tony did. It wasn't as if he could really escape the thing unless he safeworded and that–

"Well done, Tony!" Steve praised as the largest one sat into the hole fat and filling.

Stupidly, Tony suddenly felt as if this was in fact a team effort and that Tony had achieved something important. He sighed in contentment and relaxed.

"That was very good," Steve went on, "just the last one to go now."

A cold dread made Tony’s skin go tight all over his body. He couldn’t do a larger one, he really really couldn’t. His rim definitely couldn’t stretch any wider, could it?

“It’s okay,” Steve murmured, stroking his back soothingly. “It’s all smooth sailing from now. You’ll see.”

Tony didn’t see. No. He shook his head.

“No it’s okay,” Steve said, “really.” He leaned down to look Tony in the eyes and asked, “Do you trust me?”

His blue eyes were clear in sincere and his face earnest. He also looked as if it was Tony that held all the cards here and it was _Tony’s_ approval that _he_ needed, not the other way around.

“It’s gonna be okay, Tony. Please?”

When was the last time he’d needed Tony’s approval for anything? Closing his eyes, Tony swallowed. Nodded. Steve said it was going to be okay. So it was.

He heard a relieved sigh. “Thank you, Tony.”

There was a rustle, Tony felt warmth and sudden closeness near his face. His eyes popped open, but Steve was moving away, his cheeks flushed, his eyes lowered.

Had Steve wanted to _kiss_ him?

Tony must’ve been imagining things. He took a deep breath and released the air again, worked in tandem to get the huge plug out and prayed to a god he didn’t believe in that he wouldn’t tear at the next one.

“It’s not a usual plug,” Steve said as he applied more lube to the opening. “It’s actually an anal lock. Do you know what that is?”

Tony blinked and shook his head.

“It’s a heavy metal plug that you get in when it’s in a closed position.”

Steve showed him a metal contraption that did look like a plug but… Steve turned the key at it’s base and the plug opened like a flower with an… impressively wide blossom.

Oh god.

“So you see, getting it in is not going to be a problem.” Steve smiled. “It’s just when I lock it in, it’s going to sit there until I turn the key again and you’ll just have to carry it around inside you for as long as I want.”

Tony moaned. Fuck.

Yes.

The slide in was, indeed, easy. It was cold and unyielding but it’s size was really unremarkable after what he’d just taken and–

Whoa!

Tony grunted, then moaned. The sudden sensation of the thing in him going big and stretching him from the inside was… divine.

“Good?” Steve asked with warmth in his voice.

Tony nodded.

“Good.”

Steve threaded his fingers into Tony's hair, pulled on it. Tony shifted on his feet, the pouch with all his heavy equipment swayed a little and Tony rediscovered that he was turned on as hell again. A high whine escaped from his throat and he squirmed.

“There, there.”

Steve patted the base of the plug, and reached down to feel for how full the pouch was. Tony moaned at the light squeeze and shivered.

“Yeah, very good, Tony. Thank you for that,” Steve said, obviously trying to be mocking but missing by a mile.

Tony wondered how he should feel about being thanked for just being there. It wasn’t as if he had much control over what was happening here, right?

Right?

That it might be in any way up to Tony was making him anxious, but when Steve sat down on the sofa next to Tony’s torso, he relaxed. For a little while, nothing happened. Then, a finger touched Tony’s ear and then trailed a line from the top of his head towards the buckle at his nape. Then several fingers gently stroked his head the same way. Once more. The third time.

This was wrong. This shouldn’t be happening.

Why was Steve being gentle again?

  
He should have jerked away, but if Steve wanted to touch him like this then he would. Of course. And maybe that was a bit of comfort that _Steve_ needed? If he’d meant what he'd said about forgiveness, then maybe… maybe Tony owed him a little bit of that too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate feedback :)  
> Please? <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, great thank you to **synteis** who did my content and emotional consistency beta and **Bae** who tinkered at everything.  
> I love you both!!
> 
> It took me so long to update because of everything going on in the world rn and for a bit, I was just absolutely unable to focus on words, but I think I'm better now. I'll try to update more frequently again.

For an unquantifiable amount of time, they stayed like this; Tony at Steve’s feet, trussed up like a human pretzel. His shoulders ached, his cheek and jaw muscles were stiff around the gag, and his legs and back were in danger of cramping. The plug... was heavy and getting heavier but also like… it was a part of him now. Just as the gag was.

He didn’t have a choice about either of them and that was the way he liked it. It was easy. Relaxing. He couldn’t change anything which meant he didn’t have to. It wasn’t his responsibility.

He had no responsibility. He just had to be still and endure. If Steve wanted to pet him, he would, if he wanted to hurt him, he would. That was Tony’s purpose; to be. And that was okay.

Steve was the one to give him value. To give him form. To allow pleasure. Or pain.

Tony was experiencing both.

Loved both.

His cock was full, his ass was stuffed and so was his mouth. His body hurt and Steve was soothing it with a soft caress.

About a hundred years later, Steve picked him up in a bridal carry and took him inside the bedroom. Carefully, he deposited Tony on the feather soft bed…

Why bed? A trickle of unease wormed its way into Tony’s quiet brain. Surely, Steve wasn’t going to make love to him like he used to? It also didn’t look to be dark enough for sleep, so why would…?

Oh! Maybe it was an apology for the previous treatment? Tony didn't want such an apology. Not for this.

“Asshole,” Tony said into his gag.

Steve flinched.

Not responding in any way, Steve started removing the spreader bars.

“Asshole,” Tony repeated.

Steve unlaced the arm binder.

“I said asshole,” Tony mumbled through the gag.

Tony kept repeating the same word but Steve did not get riled up. Instead, he avoided eye contact and seemed to be pretending that he could neither hear nor understand what Tony was saying. Did Steve think he deserved abuse?

Something was wrong.

‘Steve?’ Tony wanted to ask but making noises with the gag on was embarrassing unless he was angry or was trying to rile Steve up. But as it was, it was starting to get awkward. So, like a lamb, Tony allowed Steve to bind his wrists to his ankles, which were still separated by the spreader, to unlock the awful metal contraption in his ass and ease it carefully out.

Fuck that felt good. A let-down too, but mostly good, especially after Steve inserted the regular plug back into him.

Jesus.

How come wearing plugs and gags felt so good now?

When soon after, the hideous gag was hastily replaced by the bit gag, Steve put his big palm on it as if afraid that Tony would try to say something. He held the other behind Tony’s head, firmly pressing his mouth closed, glaring at him.

Steve’s eyes were shining with moisture and Tony felt his gut swoop. Was he…? He wouldn’t be on the verge of crying, would he? No, of course not. But just in case, Tony gave him a short nod and looking obviously relieved, Steve nodded back. He let go of Tony’s head and Tony just held his teeth closed over the gag, not asking what he so desperately needed to know.

Tony looked down, feeling stupid for succumbing so easily. Why was he letting Steve do these things to him? It wasn't at all the type of scenening he’d asked of Steve. Not the punishment that some people would’ve thought Steve would have wanted to rain on him; nor was it the pain designed to drive them apart.

What the hell were they doing? The surreality of their situation suddenly hit Tony and for the first time since they started, Tony couldn't see one solid reason why Steve would even have agreed to it in the first place.

“I’m going out and you are going to be a good boy and wait for me here, right?” Steve said in a quiet monotone.

Steve?

Steve still wasn't looking at him and Tony tried to will him to look up, to explain... to say something. But just willing Steve to do anything had never worked out for Tony before, so why would it now? Tony should just spit the gag out and give Steve a piece of his mind, now that he had successfully fallen out of subspace.

Truthfully, Tony was starting to panic over Steve’s state of mind now. Why did he look so heart sick? Was  _ he _ thinking of safewording?

He had to try in spite of the gag. It was only the bit gag after all.

"Steve–" 

Steve grabbed the ball gag and almost shoved it into Tony’s face. Well, there went the speaking plan.

“I meant it!” Steve hissed, expression intent, verging on angry. "Either you keep it shut or I shut it for you!"

Startled at the outburst, Tony quickly nodded his understanding. For a beat, Steve stared at him and then apparently appeased, returned the gesture. He put the ballgag away and sighed.

"As I was saying," Steve said, obviously trying to calm himself. "I need to leave for a little while. You'll be absolutely safe, I promise!"

Heart thudding in his chest, Tony nodded.

"You sure? I won’t go, if you don’t want me to. But… You'll be okay if I do?”

Tony lifted his head arrogantly and glared at him. 'Of course, I can fucking manage on my own' he wanted to tell Steve. 'I’m just sitting here. Go!' It’s not as if he could actually get up to any mischief, could he? What could happen? So maybe he’d drop his gag and wouldn’t be able to pick it up again: boo-fucking-hoo! Tony rolled his eyes, shrugged and nodded.

“Alright,” Steve said quietly, dropping his gaze. “Thank you.”

Steve gave Tony his phone. "Turn it on. We’ll need FRIDAY here."

Staring dubiously at Steve, Tony held his phone in one hand.

"Please."

God, but Steve sounded tired. Tony pushed the code in and used the fingerprint activation.

"Thank you, Tony." Steve took the phone from him and brought it to his face. “FRIDAY, I need your assistance."

And that was how FRIDAY became his babysitter, which was not much fun because the first five minutes after Steve had left was spent reassuring the AI that Tony was there of his own free will. It was as heartwarming as it was annoying. Not embarrassing. Tony refused to feel embarrassed in the presence of an AI.

"I'm sorry, sir, would you please also confirm your consent with a hand gesture?"

In his own limited way, Tony confirmed that yes, this was still all his idea.

Because it  _ was, _ damnit.

He'd wanted Steve to hurt him. He'd wanted to revel in hurt and feel with every fiber of his being that no, Steve did not love him anymore. He'd wanted his hind brain to get it that there was no point in holding out for hope that they could one day be together again. Not as lovers, and maybe not even as friends. Not the together that Steve had promised so long ago, and not 'in every sense of the word' as Tony had stupidly added in his head. But Steve _ had _ promised something.

Promised, but not delivered.

Tony had been so heartsick after their break up, hurt about not being trusted with his political acumen even when they both knew better; had to have known better. But then again, in the end, it wasn't even about politics as much as it was about Steve's long-lost love; about Barnes being who he was and Steve being who he was and… Tony... not being who he’d thought he was to Steve.

_ Together. _

Liar!

The unprocessed grief over his parents' death hadn’t helped and the fight that ensued was something that would probably haunt Tony for a long time. Had Steve really wanted to kill him? Over Barnes?

Even with his brain balking at the possibility, his heart had believed it, so he’d thought that another layer of Steve being violent over his helpless body now, in this controlled environment, might drive those images away.

So Tony had a lot of reasons to try and force Steve into a room with him for just one more week. Just one more week of hurt to make it count. To make it end. To have closure.

But what about Steve? Why had Steve agreed? He must have known that this would be just suffering for both of them? Had he actually hurt Tony in any meaningful way, Tony would maybe have his answer but as it stood… Steve seemed to have agreed…

To punish  _ himself? _

Oh, god.

Tony was a grade A idiot. So yes, maybe Tony had designed the week for Steve to be hurt by having to hurt his friend. Ex lover?

But why had Steve agreed?

The potential answer to this question was making him sick. Surely, Steve wouldn't have… No. There had to be another reason. Any other reason!

Tony closed his eyes. Where was Steve? What was he thinking? Whatever the reason, Tony had clearly managed to hurt Steve too much. Finally. Steve must have gone for some fresh air to make a decision about putting a stop to the whole thing.

God, Tony was an asshole. So caught up in his own misery that he'd totally missed how he'd been overdoing it.

The hurt went both ways, and when Steve came back, it would all be over.

Shit.

Fuck, but Tony wasn't ready.

Tony wasn't sure how much time had passed and he didn't want to ask FRIDAY because Steve would see him spitting the gag out as safewording. Or he'd think that something had happened for Tony to need help but Steve hadn't been there… fuck, Tony was overthinking this. Again.

Obviously, he was meant to just endure this… fluffy soft prison in chains. So to speak. It was uncomfortable but tolerable. He could live without knowing the time for a little longer.

Fuck, but it was torture, this anticipation. Tony had no idea if the first word out of Steve's mouth would be the safeword or an apology or…

Unexpectedly, Tony felt entirely unprepared for the idea of Steve being hurt by this whole elaborate plan. Tony had  _ known _ that it would hurt Steve, had wanted it to, but… He’d had no idea how much. He had no idea that Steve would care this much!

God, but Tony was one callous son of a bitch!

The realization stabbed at Tony just under the arc reactor and he leaned forward as if to double over but stopped himself. So if Steve was hurting even half as much as Tony was, this was too much. Just the thought of it felt like breaking up with him again.

He gritted his teeth around the stupid thing in his mouth and really, really wanted to spit it out but he couldn’t. Was there any saving this? If Steve quit now, there would be no way Tony would ever be able to make it up to him! So Steve couldn’t safeword. Not now!

Tony took a deep breath trying to calm himself.

If there was even a chance… A tiny chance that Steve would not just untie him and walk straight out, Tony was going to be the best, the sweetest sub possible and do everything Steve ever wanted just to have those few more days together. A few more days to show him that Tony didn't hold him responsible. Not for everything. Certainly not more than he held himself responsible. Not any more.

Because Steve was just half of this equation and always had been. Whatever had happened, they'd done it together. Together they’d stepped into this mess, together they had to get out.

That was right.

Tony had to make this right and to do it, he would have to figure this out. Why had Steve looked so miserable? Was it because he’d realized what had happened to Tony? With the subspace? Did he feel guilty for putting Tony under like this? Did he think Tony would be angry with him? Well, he was but it wasn’t as if Tony wouldn’t forgive him for it. It was an honest mistake, wasn’t it? It wasn’t as if Steve had known that Tony's mind would react like this. It was Tony's fault, not Steve's.

God, he was pathetic.

The door opened and Steve stepped in. With a pizza box in his hand.

Fuck, Tony felt stupid. Was that why he'd left? To get… no. Everyone delivered. There was an actual reason Steve gone out. He had left because he'd needed to think. Clear his head. To gear up for something.

Shit.

Steve's face was pinched with worry and the first few moments after entering the bedroom, his eyes just roamed over Tony’s form as if checking for injuries, and then...

Then he smiled. It was a fake, tired smile, but a good approximation of the real one was better than the grim determination that Tony had expected. Despite the gag, Tony’s lip corners also lifted in relief.

Steve removed his jacket and sat down. The pizza box was wet.

Steve’s hands weren't.

Tony glanced at the floor and there were no wet stains there either, so pizza was delivered and Steve…?

So Steve hadn’t gone out. But then where…? Has he been here the entire time? For over an hour. Two? Tony couldn’t stop watching Steve’s face. What was he thinking? It looked as if they would be eating before the talk which probably meant… What exactly did it mean?

Steve opened the pizza box and took the bit gag out of Tony’s mouth. He hadn’t been given permission to talk, Tony reminded himself. He was going to be good for Steve. So good. Even if it fucking killed him.

The pizza was still warm and Steve fed him right there on the bed. Steve stared at Tony’s face the entire time and Tony stared back.

Please, Steve. Please.

In reply, Steve’s gaze was decisive but also so infinitely sad and Tony had no idea why Steve hadn’t just untied him and safeworded. Tony didn’t dare to hope.

He did anyway.

Absently, Steve’s hand almost rose to Tony’s cheek, before he jerked it back. Steve blinked and looked away. Still mindful of respecting Steve’s wishes, Tony didn’t say anything. Instead, he closed his eyes, lowered his head and leaned closer as if offering himself up for petting. It should have felt demeaning. It didn’t. Especially when hesitantly, Steve’s hand rose and pushed some of Tony’s locks off his forehead. His fingers trailed from Tony’s temple to behind his ear and then to the nape of his neck. Keeping still, Tony desperately tried not to move.

He could be a good sub if he tried. He didn’t have to make Steve force him. He could just… submit.

Steve’s touch lingered on his neck, trailed to his shoulder and down his arm. Tony shuddered. It seemed that Steve at least still liked his body. Maybe he could still save it? This week? Maybe earn some benevolent civility for their future interactions? Some modicum of respect perhaps? Not anything else, probably. But his stupid heart was whispering of it anyway.

When Steve offered Tony a drink straight from the bottle, Tony started to worry again. This was it, Steve was going to end this.

His fear was confirmed when Steve took the pizza box to leave the room without gagging Tony again. But when he returned, he picked the jaw-breaking (not really) thing up again and Tony breathed more easily. Hiding his shiver of… disgust, Tony opened his mouth to receive it obediently. Steve tightened the straps and for a moment, he just sat there and observed Tony. Then as if gearing himself up for something terrible, he grabbed Tony’s hair, pulled his head back, leaned in as if for a kiss... and froze. From an uncomfortable angle, Tony watched Steve from under his eyelashes.

Raw open pain. Need. Desperation.

So Steve knew how that felt.

Fuck.

Tony should say something. Let Steve know that it was alright, that he was going to be okay, that they were. That whatever Steve wanted, Tony would agree to. Gladly.

Tony’s body was a stupid beast though: his silly, relentless, half-hard cock stiffened and Tony remembered the idiotic pouch his cock was still hidden away in. His eyes must have betrayed him then because Steve flinched, let him go and almost ran away to hide in the bathroom.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

Steve was going to leave.

And Tony’s mornic body was still aroused and tied up and Steve was leaving.

Steve was leaving and Tony couldn’t even say anything, couldn’t run after him, couldn’t go and check if he was alright. He could call out? Or was that a bad idea?

Steve was taking too long in the bathroom. Was ten minutes too long? Was it ten or twelve? More? Steve had shut off his phone again during their dinner which Tony had stupidly taken as a good sign.

Tony’s head jerked up: the bathroom door opened.

Steve looked composed, but flushed. Sheepish, almost as if… Did he just get off in the bathroom?

At Tony’s incredulous stare, Steve’s flush intensified and he looked away. Tony’s cock hardened even more, but the godawful pouch had good straps on it and Tony almost groaned from… pain and arousal.

Pain and arousal. This felt good. Uncomplicated.

Steve stopped in the middle of the room and then staring back at Tony, strode back to the bed, his face painted a challenge.

“Yes," Steve ground out defiantly, "I still want you. Is that news to you?”

Frankly? Yes.

Steve snorted. “Right. Well, it’s not as if I’m the only one, is it?” Pointedly, he looked at Tony’s lap. “Anyway. I’ve made a decision. This thing we are having here?” He indicated between them. “This ends now. I’m not doing this anymore. This… This me hurting you shtick is pointless and hurting us both in more ways than is obvious and it’s absolutely unnecessary. Unhealthy.”

He stared at Tony as if waiting for him to contradict this but Tony couldn’t. Heart in his throat, Tony was trying to gather his wits about himself to voice any arguments that could possibly win him the case but, in the face of Steve's utter conviction… He just couldn't.

Steve nodded. “I’m putting a stop to this. If you still want somebody to whip you, beat you up or call you names, or whatever you wanted to happen here, you’ll have to find someone else, okay?”

No, Tony thought frantically. He shook his head. No, I refuse.

Please.

“Well, this is how it is, Tony.” Steve’s lips were in a firm line. “I’m not hurting you more than I already have, alright?” He paused, looked away and steeling himself, went on, “But I do have an alternative proposition and my terms are non-negotiable.” His gaze returned, grim. “You either agree or I walk, you got it?”

Proposition. Steve had a proposition. Tony inhaled with a new-found hope and stared back.

“God, just look at you, Tony. You really want the punishment so much?” Steve sighed and looked away. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m sorry, but I just can’t. It’s unfair to us both. We should be trying to spend this time to heal not… This…” He gestured around the whole room and Tony’s heart sank. “I’m willing to do bondage and stress positions, just as before, but I insist on aftercare. I deserve the right to check that you are okay and let your body rest afterwards.

“Also, if you are good and don’t antagonise me, you’ll get liquid coffee. Not tonight, it’s getting late,” he added quickly as if anticipating Tony’s objections. “But real coffee. And as for sex… We both know that I find you attractive and it seems that you want it too. So ideally, my proposition for the reminder of the week would also entail sex. Not just as means to an end but me doing things to you. For you. If you want. And if not… all you have to do is shake your head now.”

Steve paused and Tony should refuse, oh god, he really, really, should… But again, he couldn’t. Swallowing heavily, he stared Steve in the eye and didn’t move.

“Okay.” Eyes widening in surprise and then anticipation, Steve swallowed. “In whichever form I deem to use you,” he continued slowly, darkly, “you’ll take it and say thank you.”

His gaze was burning a hole through Tony’s soul, demanding for Tony to agree or deny him, but honestly, they both knew that he couldn’t refuse Steve anything. Much less this.

Raising his head to swallow painfully, Tony lowered it into a nod.

“Yeah?” Steve breathed, almost as if he was astonished by the reply. “The current rules would still apply though,” he went on, almost excitedly, but trying to hold himself back. “You do what I tell you, only what I tell you. No removing the restraints I put on your body and you  _ will _ ask for permission to speak. Every time, Tony. Not that you will have the opportunity too often. Speech is not one of your rights here, understand?”

Briefly, Tony closed his eyes in acknowledgement.

“Good.” Steve took a napkin and stepped closer but stopped before wiping Tony’s chin. “And you don’t come. Ever.”

Tony’s eyes widened.

“Well, not unless I order you to,” Steve amended. “Maybe.” He swallowed. “Your sexual enjoyment is for my entertainment, not your right,” he tried staying firm, but Tony grinned.

They both knew that this rule was a bogus one. Steve loved to see Tony orgasm. Tony smirked, slid his gaze down Steve’s body and lingered on his growing bulge. His own was a painful one, trying to break out of the confines it was placed in, but Tony almost didn’t care. He looked up into Steve’s eyes, stopped at his mouth and pointedly dropped his gaze back to his crotch.

Taking a deep breath, Steve’s lips relaxed into the almost-smirk they sometimes offered. Tony’s eyes fluttered close and he pretended it was because Steve had reached out to wipe off the drool. The tissue lingered on his skin and Tony shivered. Steve pulled his hand back, stepped away, then said ‘fuck it’ and with impatient fingers unbuckled Tony’s gag.

Being fucked in his mouth had never felt as full of hope before.

After, Steve untied Tony's hands and removed the spreader bar. The pouch was still there, still flesh-coloured and ugly, still straining and…oh god, there was a wet spot on it!

Tony blushed.

“Go to the living room and kneel in the middle of the carpet facing the sofa.”

Apparently, he was expecting Tony to just comply now.

Well.

Lifting his head slightly, Tony swallowed.

His limbs felt strange unrestricted. As if standing and walking of his own free will was somehow unfamiliar suddenly. Just kneeling there when he was not forced in any way... His hands felt uselessly idle, simply hanging at his sides, not doing anything, not–

Steve followed him into the room and Tony’s whole body rippled with arousal.

“God you’re driving me crazy,” Steve said. “Look at you. On your knees for me, just like I told you to. See? You can be a good boy, if you try.”

Tony shivered again, but this time from sheer embarrassment – 'Good boy'. Why did this phrase affect him so much? And why did the embarrassment feel so good? It didn't make any sense. Tony dropped his gaze.

“And I see you need a bigger pouch, huh? It’s a soft material, but it’s really straining now.”

Steve crouched in front of Tony and put his palm under his sack to lift it. Tony flinched and shivered. Grinning like a kid in a toy store, Steve tried dialing it down. He almost succeeded.

Steve hummed. “Does it hurt?” he asked with a faux curiosity. ”Want me to take it off?”

He bounced the stiff package on his palm lightly and Tony, his face burning, tried not to react.

“Look! The wet spot is growing! I didn’t know you could leak when trussed up like this. If you’re not careful, the whole thing will slide right off,” he admonished and unlaced the straps for a moment but only to tighten them straight after.

Tony bit off a moan.

“There, there,” Steve said patronisingly, patted Tony's clothed sack and stood. “I really like the look of it. We should get you a set, one for each day or something. Think you can hide it in your slacks?”

The idea made Tony go hot all over.

“I like it when you blush.” Steve chuckled. “Fine, I’ll look into it,” Steve added as if Tony had actually agreed.

“Now don’t move,” Steve said after a moment and stood.

He stepped away and walked around the suite, doing things he obviously didn’t need to do in the first place; such as straightening pictures, lifting vases and putting them back as if he was tidying. Then he went into the kitchen, probably to drink milk or something, stepped into the bedroom and returned in a few minutes in soft sweats and a T-shirt, obviously settling in for the evening.

"Stand up. I want your crotch in my line of sight." His lips turned up in a small smile. “Makes it look so... cute.”

His gut swooping in a pleasant way, Tony stood. His hands were still hanging motionlessly by his sides and that was possibly the most useless he'd ever felt in his life; he wasn't used to his hands not doing anything. They were always working, always occupied.

Steve didn't have such a problem. Even seemingly idle, Steve looked at peace. It might be a pretence but nevertheless, sitting on the sofa, flipping channels seemed like a valid way to pass time.

And all this while Tony was still standing there, without even the option of facing the TV. His arousal dwindled and decreased in spurts depending on how purposeful the neglect felt to him at any given moment. It was ridiculous.

He shifted on his feet but Steve didn’t notice.

Which of course meant that it was all planned. Must’ve been. Instantly, Tony felt better and his moronic cock started filling out again. Obviously, Steve wanted for him to be standing here and feeling stupid; it was a deliberate ploy, and that Tony could take. Almost unconsciously, steel trickled down his spine, his shoulders straightened and he lifted his head. It was a habit by now, to lift his head to swallow even as the spit continued pooling in his mouth and at times simply spilled over, trickling down his chin.

How long would he be able to stand here? Steve wasn't even looking at him. It was starting to get uncomfortable and Tony thought of adjusting his stance but then again… It was a challenge, wasn’t it? So Tony stood. Staring at Steve. Waiting. There was a tremble in his legs now. Not noticeable. Not really – the restlessness was all in his head, but Steve undoubtedly knew how he was feeling anyway. How long could he stand the attention and for how long did Steve intend for it to last? Was the idea to make him break or was he just waiting out a certain amount of time?

What Tony was certain of, was that having been ordered to stand outside of Steve’s immediate line of sight was on purpose. The only entertainment Tony had was to watch Steve, and Steve could easily switch between watching the TV or his sub, whichever he liked. So the fact that Steve’s eyes were determinedly glued to the TV was a statement.

Slowly and not very subtly, Steve’s person was turning into the sole focus of Tony's attention.

Damn him.

Tony stared at Seve and willed him to look back.

He didn’t.

Tony’s asshole clenched and his fingers were starting to tingle. He needed to move. What if he just did? Or maybe there were other options of getting Steve’s attention? But Steve wanted him to be a good boy.

Not moving was hard.

He wouldn’t, he would not. Tony could keep still. Having been still for a while now, Tony felt the saliva pooling in his mouth, tried to swallow it back without moving his head, but of course, he couldn’t. If he lifted his head, Steve would definitely notice, and that felt like losing a challenge that wasn’t even officially issued. But then again, Steve and he thrived on the unvoiced challenges.

He swallowed.

Something in Steve twitched but otherwise he pretended not to have noticed.

Fine.

Tony shifted from foot to foot and when Steve finally looked at him, Tony raised his hands to the sides at shoulder height and stretched.

Steve nodded in approval. “Yes, stop.”

Tony froze, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Good idea to stretch. Now keep your arms there. You can widen your stance, so you won’t fall over. Yes, go on. A bit wider. Yes, good enough. Now stay. Don't raise your head.”

Jesus. Busted and crucified.

His head bowed, Tony stayed in his precarious position and Steve changed the channel.

To a toddler station! Christ, that was  _ mean. _ Only seeing Steve in the periphery of his vision now, Tony drew a deep breath. Like this, there was no way for him to swallow and soon the saliva was just dripping out and pooling on the carpet.

Fuck. Tony blushed.

His arms felt like lead and legs tingled with the lack of movement even though he had just recently changed his stance. The position was a more stressful one, though, and there was nothing to draw his attention either.

It’s in your head, Stark. You can do it. It’s all in your head.

He drooled. Trembled.

And was Steve smirking? Tony couldn’t quite tell, but it must be his imagination. Or lightheadedness.

It felt as if the blood was congealing in his limbs. There was sweat on his forehead. Tony was contemplating wiping it and the drool off; after all, his hands were free. And yet he couldn't. Because then, Steve… his Dom didn’t want him to. Tony had agreed to be good for him. Fuck, Tony had to–

Tony's eyelashes fluttered and the index finger on his left hand twitched. God, he–

“Okay, fine,” Steve said abruptly, almost throwing the magazine he was holding to the table in front of him. “Come here.”

Oh thank fuck!

Ridiculously grateful, his balance off and stumbling, Tony went.

“Kneel,” his Dom said, opening his legs to make room for Tony to get down between them. Steve unbuttoned his trousers and as if hypnotized, Tony stared at the cock that wasn't even half hard. Seemingly unconcerned about that, Steve reached out to unbuckle Tony’s gag and reflexively, Tony rasped his head backwards, ripping the clasp out of Steve’s fingers to finally swallow properly.

“Now, now,” Steve chuckled as if for the first time realizing what Tony’s struggle had been all about and liking it. “Is that the way to say thank you for allowing your jaw to rest a moment?”

Yeah, because that’s what this was obviously about: letting Tony rest. Steve didn’t say it but by the amused glint in Steve’s eyes, he most definitely knew.

Steve unbuckled the thing. He only had to wipe a little drool off it and Tony was proud to have swallowed the rest.

Gently, Steve put his palm behind Tony’s head and guided him to his cock.

“Don’t suck, just hold it,” Steve said.

Tony blushed. Just… hold it? For a split second their eyes locked and Tony thought… no, Steve was turned on, of course he was looking at Tony like… Tony leaned in and closed his lips around Steve's soft cock. It tasted different from when it was hard; was that possible? Tony sucked it once but Steve tsked and put his fingers into Tony's hair as if to pull him off. Tony stopped. He rested his head on Steve’s thigh and tried to assume a comfortable position.

"You can put your hands up here," Steve said, guiding.

Tony did. The new position was heaven; sitting down and putting his arms on the couch was restful. He allowed himself to relax. It felt good again to be useful, to make Steve feel good.

The only difficulty now was holding his mouth open and accommodating Steve so he wouldn't hurt him.

"Yeah, like this," Steve approved as he petted Tony’s hair.

By the time he fully settled, the thing in his mouth wasn't small and soft any longer. But that wasn't the worst of it. The gag had been a hard thing and he could let his teeth carelessly fall close over it. Now though, he needed to actively hold his mouth open or he would hurt Steve. It was work. His mouth started cramping almost from the start.

Fuck.

Unconcerned for Tony’s struggle, Steve took a remote and leaned back to flip channels.

Tony made a noise. Steve patted his head but otherwise ignored him. Tony breathed. Steve was trusting him to keep him safe. He pressed his eyes close and concentrated on controlling his jaw muscles. The fact that his legs were folded under him, his arms were circling Steve's thighs, and Tony's shoulders and head were resting on Steve's knees should have helped, and for a while it did. The lack of movement, however, was something that was taking its toll. Again. His muscles were starting to get tired of the same position and for a moment, Tony’s focus drifted from keeping his mouth open to keeping himself still.

It was hell.

The cock was big in his mouth and even though it was just the upper third that fit into his mouth, it was so filling… It was miserable work in the way sucking never had been. Torture. Pure torture and Tony was trying so hard to be good for Steve. He really, really was.

His jaw muscles ticked and then did his fingers. He moaned.

Steve stroked his head once and switched the channel.

Tony inhaled, braced himself and sucked.

Oh god, fuck, yes!

“Stop it.” Steve put his big palm on Tony's neck and squeezed lightly. "Hold still.”

Tony thought he’d go liquid on the spot. But no, the touch just electrified all his insides, shot into his cock and started pulsing in his blood. He tried, though. He really, really did. His upper body spasm-trembled and his jaw ticked, so he sucked again. Moaned plaintively.

“Tony!” Steve barked and pushed Tony firmly down onto his cock.

Tony moaned and flailed a little, but settled then, panting heavily through his nose. His cock was as full as Steve’s felt and his hips bucked.

Steve hummed. “If you don’t calm down now, I’ll tie you into a pretzel and leave until morning.”

It was a stupid threat, but it still got Tony moaning and shivering. He’d never had to exert so much self-control during sex before and he really, really liked it. He’d just never thought that it would be so impossible to do.

He whimpered.

Steve patted his head in recognition of his efforts and switched the channel.

Nothing was helping, Tony's body was on fire, his own arousal heightened, his jaw aching. He moaned again quietly and for a bit, it felt easier. He moaned again, and yes, making a noise was actually easing some of the tension. He kept moaning and with tremendous willpower, Tony stilled.

A shiver ran down his spine as his body had suddenly achieved a new high - keeping still felt good. Moaning felt wonderful, the fullness of his asshole and the way his cock was bound was spectacular.

And Steve’s fingers in his hair told him that he was happy with Tony.

For a little while, he floated in muted warmth, soothed into compliance and utter calm.

Until his shoulder twitched with pain. His extremities were tingling unpleasantly, his lower back hurt. The real struggle, however, was how his mouth would start spasming very, very soon. Why was it so difficult; just keeping it open and… holding?

God.

Please.

Tony whimpered again and Steve stroked his hair once more before removing his fingers from Tony’s hair. He picked up a magazine from next to him and opened it.

Please, Tony begged. Please, end this torture.

Ecstasy.

Please, Tony moaned again, and the fingers returned to his head, but didn’t move, simply rested there.

Tony’s body trembled from exertion, his cock wanted to burst out of the pouch, but that was secondary compared to the weird, strange, painful fire his whole lower face seemed to be in.

Please, Steve.

Steve didn’t understand. His petting clearly indicated his pleasure at Tony’s pleasure; it was so obvious that Tony wanted to pull back and just tell him: No, Steve, this is not me mewling in enjoyment, this is me in agony.

Please, please, let me up.

I can’t.

But he had to.

Steve wanted him to, Steve liked it and Tony…

Liked it too.

Loved it.

His eyes still closed, Tony moaned. His mouth was still desperately open and full and useful. Tony was useful and he was making Steve happy with his usefulness. Steve should always be happy.

Steve.

Steve, Tony tried begging with his eyes, his body, but still Steve paid him no heed.

God, Steve, please. I can’t.

But he would.

Tony had no idea how long he stayed like this. In the end, he just was. He had one job and he was doing it.

At some point, Steve adjusted his thigh, and moved Tony’s head into a slightly different angle so that the cock in his mouth started to slide out.

“Keep it open,” Tony heard and he thought, ‘of course’, and kept it open.

The thigh under him moved again; for a moment his mouth was completely empty and it felt weird. He wanted to close, but of course, he couldn’t, that wasn’t what he was supposed to do, so he kept it in his default position, as Steve meant for it to be.

Warm palms on his face helped him to adjust his position and then his mouth was filled again - ambrosia! Steady movement, in and out. Steve was fucking him.

Of course.

Tony closed his eyes again and let it happen.

Thank you, Steve.

When he needed to draw a breath and couldn’t, he opened his eyes and looked at Steve, choked. Breathing again after a moment, and not in the next, just as Steve wished for him to. Steve was tugging on his hair and Tony was staring straight ahead, the sides of his cheeks wet as he rode it out; the ramming to the back of his throat, the pain in his scalp.

It was pain and warmth and bliss.

He swallowed and kept swallowing and then Steve stilled again and with his mouth still full, Tony closed his eyes to rest.

Steve petted his hair gently.

“You okay?”

Yea…

“Tony?”

Tony glanced up at Steve and Steve smiled, tenderly, astonished and happy, and Tony smiled back.

“Good boy,” Steve said quietly. He pulled his cock out and offered Tony a water bottle. “Drink.”

Still smiling, Tony drank.

Then without saying a word, Steve massaged Tony’s facial muscles, pressed lightly on the pressure points for Tony to open his mouth up all the way again and inserted the gag.

God. It felt good to close his mouth around it again. It was bigger than the cock, yes, and his jaw might have protested, but… He also didn’t have to hold it open himself, the gag was doing that for him, and Tony was grateful.

Thank you, Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this one. <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit shorter because I divided the original 6th chapter. That means that the next chapter is also going to be about the same length. Just a little restructuring, nothing major, so the posting is going to proceed as normal. :)
> 
> Synteis and Bae were my betas - thank you so much!!

The morning came with a raging hard-on. Not a surprise. He was still in the same position he fell asleep in - his wrists tied to his thighs and feet together - but alone. The vague sense of loneliness washed over him but he squashed it. Steve cuddling him last night was just aftercare. There was no reason for Steve to be here now.

Should he get up? Or wait to be allowed up?

Oh god, he wanted to touch himself so bad. He couldn't reach his cock, not the way his hands were tied. He wouldn't anyway. He was going to be good. His mouth was dry and he swallowed around the comfortable leather sleeping gag he had on. Fuck! That was the one thing he hated about subbing to Steve - how he always wanted to stuff his mouth.

He liked the forced aspect of it though, he had to admit. Doing as he was told simply because Steve wanted him to; that had its own rewards. Namely, the constant thrum of arousal that he was learning to finally enjoy for its own sake, not only as foreplay to sex or an orgasm.

In this game, there were no orgasms for him. Steve, on the other hand, seemed to be getting plenty and that thought made a shiver of excitement run down Tony's spine.

Steve must have heard him stretching, because the next moment, he appeared in the doorway. Tony’s cock started throbbing even more. It was the direct consequence of his stretching, of course.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Steve said, smiling.

Tony felt like smiling back and admonished himself. God, this was not a romance, his heart would have to fuck the right off. He harrumphed in reply.

Steve’s smile widened. “Yes, I can see that you’re already up,” he said while eyeing Tony’s crotch.

Steve stepped closer to the bed and for a moment just looked at him, his face inscrutable. Then he sat down and put his palm on Tony’s opposite hip so that his arm reached just above the straining cock, but not touching it. Tony shivered.

“I’m glad you’re happy to see me,” Steve said, his thumb casually stroking Tony’s skin. “Want water?”

Tony tried swallowing drily and nodded.

“Yeah, give me a sec.”

Steve stood, his palm trailing over Tony’s stomach and leaned away to grab the water bottle from the night stand. He helped Tony sit up, and still ignoring Tony’s erection, unbuckled the leather gag. He lifted the bottle to Tony’s lips and tilted it carefully.

“Good boy,” Steve praised, as he watched Tony drink with a proprietary expression.

Tony forced an eye roll, but Steve’s pleased expression didn’t wane.

They had the mechanics of the morning routine down pat by now: how they did things in the bathroom and how they ate while Tony was the passive recipient, and Steve doing everything for him and to him. It was probably supposed to make Tony feel helpless, dependent.

Humiliated.

It did.

It also made him feel cherished and taken care of.

And it was temporary, Tony reminded himself; so very brief. Three days and then the final aftercare. The last time with Steve and probably the last time he would experience such a game ever again. Tony couldn’t imagine submitting like this to anybody else.

The last time he shared anything this intimate with Steve. Anything close to intimate.

He wanted to stop, weep and wallow in misery at the truth of it, but this was not the time nor place. Later. He could fall apart later.

“Tony?”

Tony was sitting in front of the sofa again, with his hands behind his back, the big hateful gag filling his mouth and the remote buzzing at a low intensity in his butt. It was more of the same, and at the same time, completely new. For the first time, during their arrangement… Tony had not just accepted his bonds along with the limits Steve set him; he’d welcomed them.

Welcomed and hurt under Steve’s gentle touch.

Clearly, Steve liked them as they were in this moment, the shared space of vulnerability, his role of the caretaker and a Dom. He was enjoying the experience and thriving on it. Tony imagined Steve would find plenty of people who wanted to sub for him. Tony would make sure this first domming experience supported his belief that he could be the best Dom.

Steve would be okay. After.

Tony closed his eyes and willed the ache away, postponing it. He was going to be okay too. For now.

“Tony, are you okay?”

Steve was sitting on the sofa and leaning closer to look him in the eye.

Yes, Tony said, lifting his head to swallow and nodding in the same movement.

“Okay.” Steve nodded in turn. “You’re okay, that’s what you’re saying?”

Tony repeated the nod.

“Okay, good.”

Gnawing on the inside of his cheek, Steve looked away for a moment. “But you’re still caught up in your head and…" he trailed off. "I’m sorry, I know that this was what you wanted my help with.”

Steve's eyebrows wrinkled in remorse and the line of his mouth was full of reproach (probably at himself). It’s okay, Tony thought at him. It’s not your fault, it’s mine. Steve, however, wasn’t even looking at him.

“Give me a moment,” he said.

He stood, walked to the toy closet and after rummaging in it, returned with a pair of nipple clamps. They were adjustable and had almost two feet of a thin chain between them.

“I know you don’t like them, but I love how they look on you.” Steve gave him a brief smile but it still looked a bit lost. “And that’s what it’s supposed to be like for now, I guess.”

So far, the nipple clamps had always been merely an accompanying instrument to the rest of the orchestra, so Tony had no idea how it would play out this time, but he was determined to show Steve that it was all good. Steve was a very good Dom and by the end of the week, he would know it.

The sting of the clips was slight, the pain distracting, but when Steve pulled on the chain, Tony shuddered. It was something that Steve wanted Tony to experience; Steve loved how they looked on his chest. Tony loved how Steve was looking at him now: a slight smile on his lips.

For a brief moment their eyes met and the smidgeon of excitement they both had felt previously, doubled. Steve played with the chain, the vibrator remote, stroked Tony’s hair. Tony was soon squirming in place and Steve shushed him, soothingly. Slowly but surely, Tony could see Steve settling down into his role of the indulgent Dom Tony had always imagined he could very well become.

Tony closed his eyes.

The buzzing stopped and Tony looked at St- his Dom.

“Tony,” his Dom said.

Tony frowned. A part of him wondered why Steve had interrupted his descent into the subspace, he was kinda, maybe, tentatively, finally dipping into.

“I know you don’t want me to talk about it,“ Steve started. He hesitated but then soldiered on. “If it makes you angry, then… Then you’ll have to ride it out. I don’t need… no. I don’t  _ want  _ you to reply. Not yet.” He took a deep breath. “Not until this is over,” he added more quietly.

Tony went cold all over.

_ Until this is over. _

_ Until it’s over. _

Tony wasn’t ready to think about that yet. To prepare himself for whatever Steve wanted to talk about, Tony took a deep breath.

“The way we broke up,” Steve went on, unaware of Tony’s inner turmoil. “I hate how that happened.”

Okay. Yeah. That talk. Okay. His heart pounding, Tony tried to calm his breathing. He wished Steve would just tell him how it was all Tony's fault and be done with it. But that wouldn't be very much like Steve, would it? No. Instead, Steve would ask himself questions, answer them, discuss pros and cons, dissect the whole situation and then give his assessment. Judgement. And by the end, Tony would want to hang himself on a hot iron cord.

_ “I’m sorry, Tony,” Steve said over the phone later. “I know, you didn’t want this to go the way it did, but you should’ve just talked to me first.” _

_ “You’re not really sorry, though, are you?” Tony felt his lips crooking in distaste, disappointment churning in his gut. “I did try to warn you-” _

_ “But you didn't really, did you? You sat on the information  _ for weeks _. I get that it was sensitive information, but I would’ve helped you, Tony. By the time it was out in the open, it was already too late, wasn't it?" _

_ "But it wasn't! We could have made it work! If you hadn't left-" _

_ "I couldn't stay!" Steve’s voice wasn’t especially loud, but it was harsh and the blow of it almost made Tony's knees buckle. “Just admit it - You were wrong!" _

_ "It was a bad situation and I did my best-" _

_ "You should’ve done more!” Steve interrupted him. _

_ “Nothing is ever enough for you, is it?” Tony whispered after a moment. “I’m never enough. Never have been.” _

_ Steve hung up. _

Neither of them had really said that they were through, that their relationship was over. It had just been so painfully obvious that they hadn’t needed to. And that was what hurt the most.

Tony wished he'd had the right words to make it less of a jagged line but logic had nothing to do with it, and so he'd failed. They’d talked and argued and then the physical distance forced them to stop. And when they met up again… Tony realized what his heart had been whispering to him the whole time: they were over.

Tony didn’t want to talk about their fallout now either. At all. And ironically, with the gag in, he couldn't. He could only listen to what Steve chose to tell him and that… Felt too much in character for them.

“That last time,” Steve said, bringing Tony back from his memories, “when we talked on the phone as a couple…” He swallowed. “At least… I thought, we were? Anyway, I… I was a mess. I acted...”

Like a crazy person? But so had Tony.

“It was unworthy of me and…”

Right. Because Captain America was never supposed to do wrong.

“And unfair to you.”

Tony's train of thought came to a halt. He looked at Steve but Steve had turned away, staring into the distance.

“I’ve already told you that my biggest regret is not listening to you when I should have, Tony. If I had… Maybe…” He sighed, and went on in a whisper, “I’m sorry, I didn’t listen to you, Tony.”

Then, apparently finished with this heart-to-heart, he turned back to Tony and without raising his eyes, pulled on the chain between Tony’s nipples. It stung and his cock twitched unpleasantly. He wasn’t in the mood for arousal any more and glared at Steve.

“Think about this later, okay?” Steve said apologetically, and put the vibrator plug into the highest setting.

Even though the initial jolt was unpleasant, his cock was filling fast and his mind blanked out.

“Ngh…” There might've been noises but Tony couldn’t be self-conscious about them right now, he wanted Steve to touch him or–

His left hand let go of his right wrist and he reached for–

“No!” Steve exclaimed and grabbed Tony by the wrists.

He held them at Tony’s sides, then placed them on his thighs and held. Tony whined, struggled and his hips bucked once… Stopped.

Fine.

He took in a shaky breath, lifted his head to swallow and closed his eyes in acceptance.

“You keep your hands here,” Steve said and stood up.

He went to the kitchen, came back, and when he sat down, he had a book with him that he pretended to read over the next… thousand minutes as he played with the remote in his hand, switching the intensity levels. Sometimes he pulled on the chain that relentlessly hurt Tony's nipples and when Tony started whimpering, Steve smiled.

God, Tony wanted to put his hands on his cock if only for a bit. Or maybe soothe his poor nipples or… Every time Steve turned his back, Tony almost did it. But he couldn’t; Steve trusted him. He wanted Tony to be good, so he would be good even if it killed him.

Once more, time lost its meaning.

“Tony?”

There was a touch at his cheek and Tony swayed closer.

“Lean forward,” Steve said quietly. “This way,” he instructed, “on your hands and knees.”

Steve guided him to stand along the sofa and got on the floor behind him. There was a click of a lube bottle and Tony shivered.

Thank god, Tony thought and his head fell forward, his muscles too tired to hold it up.

Steve lubed his hole up around the base of the plug, stroked his back and started moving the plug around in its hole. Felt like bliss. Felt like torture.

Tony groaned in resignation. Acceptance. Moaned and kept moaning.

Steve lifted the chain hanging from his nipples behind his head.

“Raise your head, see how that feels.”

With an effort, Tony did. It hurt but not significantly more than before. What it did though, it provided a delicious counterpoint to the sensation in his lower body where previously there was just a ball of fire, but now he had other things to concentrate on.

“Good?”

Tony grunted.

“Want a drink?”

Surprised, Tony realized that yes, he did. The gag had been in his mouth since the morning and he’d given up on proper swallowing long ago. Saliva kept running down his chin and it was disgusting but he’d not even thought about it for a while.

“Yeah, wait a mo,” Seve said, let go of the plug and turned the buzz to almost nothing.

By now, the low intensity just felt bad, as if there was nothing there, as if he wasn’t even touched and Tony made a noise in protest.

“Keep your head up, Tony,” Steve admonished.

Tony lifted it slightly higher and the pinprick pain in his nipples intensified for a moment. Steve petted his hair as if in commiseration and removed the middle part of the gag to carefully pour some water in. Tony drank greedily. Some of the water wet his mouth somehow, but mostly, it just went down his throat.

God, he hated this gag.

“I love how helpless you look with it in your mouth,” Steve said. “I can see that you don’t really like it, but that is the evidence of how totally under my control you are, and I love that. Because you could’ve removed it at any time today. You’ve not really been restrained, have you?”

Embarrassed, Tony looked away and let his hair be petted. Then the gag was closed up again and Steve went back behind Tony.

The removal of the plug was quick, and soon, oh god, Steve was in and–

Fuck!

Steve started thrusting, slowly, but with intent. The purposeful glide brushed over Tony’s prostate making them both groan in pleasure. Yeah, Steve definitely knew what he was doing.

“Oh, god, Tony,” he moaned. “You’re so good, so tight, so…”

Steve kept up the praise up until his pace increased and he was pounding away, chasing his own release as he carelessly passed over Tony’s pleasure centre.

“Such a wonderful little hole for me,” he got out between the gasps, as he took hold of Tony’s balls.

Tony whimpered at the painful grasp and the fact that the way Steve was holding him now put an absolute stop to any attempt at angling himself better.

Shit. Fuck. Damn. Tony cried into his gag, tears of frustration pooling in his eyes and spilling over.

Fuck!

“God, oh, yes! Oh, yes, Tony… Fuck… So good, Tony... Tony, god…”

Steve would come soon, he was thrusting quickly and shallowly almost where Tony wanted, almost where he needed it, almost… Chanting nonsense quietly under his breath, Steve’s grip had moved from Tony’s balls to his shaft, and Tony was suddenly almost there, yes, yes! He–

But fuck, he shouldn’t come! Steve didn’t want him to! Oh, please, no! Not now, not like this! Tony had to–

God, please no!

He was shaking with pleasure, with strain, shaking apart and begging, begging for Steve to let him come, to give his permission, to let him finally come, please–

And then it was too late. Steve’s movement stalled, he sputtered, his fingers spasmed on Tony’s hips and cock painfully, and he was coming. The distinctive sound Steve made was all it took – Tony tried to hold back, he really did, but his prostate was still being stimulated and his cock and mind exploded at the same time as Steve pulled out.

Pleasure and despair, the loss of contact on his cock - Tony screamed.

To have just started coming and then have all the stimulation stop made his cock give a few weak spurts more before petering out, his orgasm aborted.

Steve pulled out and Tony strained to move with him, to still capture the exquisite fullness that was not there anymore and he whimpered with need.

“God, you feel so good, Tony,” Steve said breathlessly. “Thank you.”

Tony wanted to cry with disappointment but Steve was just there and he was petting Tony’s back, obviously happy. When he started cleaning Tony up, he startled.

"Tony,” he exclaimed, half astonished, half horrified, “did you just come?"

Tony grimaced and Steve's eyes opened comically, realisation dawning.

"Was it…?" Shock was quickly overtaken first by awe, then guilt. "God, Tony, you just had a ruined orgasm, didn't you?" He was desperately trying to look remorseful, but increasingly, he looked turned on, triumphant and abso-fucking-lutely delighted.

Tony snorted. Then gave in and chortled.

"Tony…" Steve sounded breathless from holding back his laughter, leaned closer to Tony's face, cupped his face and for a moment, it felt as if he wanted to kiss Tony, gag and all.

Tony strained to meet him, to get his stupid gag, a muzzle–

But, sheepishly, Steve pulled away.

"Well," he muttered. "It's not about your pleasure anyway, is it?"

He sounded petulant, satisfied and guilty about it.

Tony loved him.

God, how Tony loved him.

Fuck, it was good to have finally admitted it to himself in words. They were over, yes. But Tony would always love Steve regardless. And maybe it would be okay.

Steve didn't need to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing it. <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Synteis and Bae - thank you! Without you this story would be crap.

Despite the partial orgasm, or maybe due to it, Tony was still incredibly horny throughout the next day. Or maybe it was because Steve kept fucking him with a cock ring on. Maybe because of the plug that kept Steve's spill inside, or because Steve kept touching his cock and praising him every time they fucked.

_I love you,_ Tony thought _._

But very obviously, Steve didn't want to hear it because every time Tony tried telling him with his eyes, Steve’s flitted away.

"I want to do it again," Steve said breathlessly, in a rush of embarrassment.

Still gagged, Tony hummed with curiosity. It was in the evening of the fourth day after he’d arrived and the whole thing started and they hadn’t done anything particularly different since Tony gave in to submission. It had been good. Peaceful. And now Steve looked as if he was readying to disrupt their routine. The blood rushed to his cock and Tony felt lightheaded. What exactly was Steve proposing here?

"But only if you are okay with it," Steve said quickly. "This time you can say no. I won't do it if you don't want me to. Just shake your head and…" Steve swallowed nervously. "I won't."

_What?_ Tony was getting impatient but also curious and he growled.

"Yeah, you wanna know what I'm talking about. Of course, you do," he muttered.

Sighing shakily, he glanced at Tony, then looked away. Opened his mouth, closed it. 

"I want to give you an orgasm–" Tony's heart started pounding madly. "–but a ruined one. Just… for the edge. I've been thinking about it since it happened last night, and… I want to try to do it on purpose." A quick inhale, a look shot at Tony's face. "Just edge you for a couple of times first," A double-take. Steve's speech slowed. "Touch your cock… Stroke it… Then wait until you start spilling and…" Tony tried not to react, but Steve's gaze was intent on his face now. "Then... let go," Steve finished, his eyes alight. "You like it," he breathed out delightedly. "You like the idea!"

Tony looked away. Swallowing was difficult, and not only because of the hateful gag that had been starting to grow on him.

"You like it," Steve almost accused, and Tony shook his head no. "No, don't lie to me, I can see it on your face."

There was a dark satisfaction in Steve's voice and Tony wasn't in any position to tell him that his hindbrain was still stuck on the part of the touching and orgasm, and that he really, really disliked the ruined part of the deal.

But on the other side of that coin was how enthusiastic Steve was about it. And being at Steve’s mercy was a thrill. So yeah, maybe if he put it like this, he did like the idea.

"I think I'm gonna tie you down for this."

Right. Of course.

Tony swallowed which might’ve seemed like a nod to Steve because he grinned almost giddily before trying to hide his excitement.

Oh yeah, totally worth it.

What happened after that was a quick snack, a short series of stretches that Steve kept insisting Tony do in between the different stress positions he put Tony in, and a tender hand on his neck as Steve guided him back into the bedroom. 

"I'm thinking,” Steve almost chattered eagerly, “spread eagle on the bed. I want us both to be comfortable for this." Steve looked over him with a critical eye, then at the clock. "But not yet."

For a warm-up (as if he even needed it), Steve played around with the vibrator plug settings, petted and stroked Tony's skin, watched him tremble through them, and then told him to kneel in the corner with his hands behind his head and set the buzz at a medium setting. Then he told Tony not to move while he did some calisthenics, the bastard.

After that, Steve sat down on the bed, took the remote into his hand and smiled. They stared at each other for a long moment. Tony blinked and looked away. Sure, he knew that Steve was always like that when it came to sex, and that was what Tony had now agreed to; to let Steve take care of him, but the tender stares were getting too much. He schooled his features into indifference–

and the plug cut off.

“Let’s do those stretches again, shall we?” Steve said decisively. “Exercise is good for you.”

Sure, that’s why you are holding the remote.

Still, Tony had to admit that the exercises were designed not only to accommodate the gag and stretch the muscle groups that had begun to feel particularly unused and stiff, but, going by the way Steve was eyeing him, they also made him look good. And of course they felt especially… interesting... with the plug up his butt. And… his Dom’s fingers were not idle on the remote. Of course.

Soon, Tony was ready to burst.

"Time for dinner," Steve said cheerfully.

Jesus fucking Christ.

"Language." Steve grinned. "I can see it in your face, Iron Man."

Tony rolled his eyes, even though his cock was still ramrod straight.

  
  
  


After dinner, Steve did tie Tony down as promised. Spreadeagle; the gag was reinserted, the plug still holding all of Steve's cum in and they were both quivering in anticipation.

"I'm not going to use the remote for this, I think," Steve said, sitting next to Tony on the bed. "I don't think we need it." He was stroking Tony's arm, up and down. Then along the thigh. Tony sighed. "See? You are already more than ready, aren't you? I'm glad. You'll just have to be patient, sweetheart." He stroked and petted Tony's skin all over his body with both hands, then… very lightly, he slid it over Tony's shaft and Tony bucked.

"Sh… don't strain yourself, honey. You know that all good things come to those who wait."

Good things, huh? How about a proper orgasm then?

Steve kept stroking around the cock, seldom touching it and Tony was half sure that he would burst the moment Steve touched him for real.

He didn't.

If only for the dirty movement where Steve squeezed his balls at the same time with grasping his shaft.

Tony bucked, groaned and whimpered.

"Yeah… there you go, baby," Steve crooned, breathless, not sounding like himself anymore either.

There was awe on his face. Admiration. Lo–

No. Not that.

Steve tugged twice on Tony's shaft and let go. Tony whimpered as the torturously slow dance of stroke and pet, peppered with a random pinch and zero attention to where he really wanted it, continued.

Tony was moaning lightly now, soft and short. Steve leaned in, kissing his nipple and Tony's chest rose to meet it. He kept stroking and kissing and nipping, and when it seemed that neither could take it anymore, Steve straddled him, put both of his palms on either side of his cock and met Tony’s desperate noise in a kiss… to the corner of his stretched lips.

“God, look at you,” he whispered. “Just look at you. So soft and welcoming. Ready for anything I give you and begging for more.”

He rubbed Tony’s crotch, ignoring his pleas, kissed his throat and sucked the tender skin just under his chin and ear. It would bruise later, but Tony didn’t care because finally, finally, Steve’s hand was on his cock, circling it fully and holding. He leaned down and blew on the head. Tony whined in disappointment, but then, Steve’s hand started to move.

Steve must have lubed his hand at some point, but Tony had no idea when, nor did he care. The touch was magnetic, hypnotic and although slow, it was just the right pressure and Tony was bucking up in rhythm, moaning his thanks-

A cry of dismay was ripped from his throat because Steve… Steve…

Fuck you!

Steve had let go and was now slowly, surely humping Tony’s thigh with no contact left on Tony’s crotch anywhere. He was wearing soft sweatpants, must be comfortable for him, fuck, Tony wished he could inch to meet his hips, wished he could… Instead, all he could do was squirm, pant, and whimper.

“God, Tony, honey, baby, yes… yes, yes, yes,” he kept whispering as he leaned down further rubbing his whole body against Tony’s sensitized skin everywhere except for where the need was burning the brightest.

Tony was keening in reply, trying to shift so that he could catch at least a bit of pressure to his cock, but Steve was having none of it.

“Sh,” Steve shushed him, “don’t cry. Don’t cry, baby... you’ll get it, don’t worry, I’ll take care of you… sh…”

That was when Tony remembered that it was supposed to be a ruined orgasm anyway. With a spike of aroused desperation, his fingers twitched in an almost safeword but then…

What if it ended not only the scene but also the whole arrangement? What if Steve would think that he’d failed as a dom or a friend and he’d just provide a lot of aftercare and be out of the room by morning? What if…?

Tony didn’t safeword and determinedly, relaxed. Closing his eyes, he tightened and released every muscle in his body. Steve kept rubbing himself against Tony, but then slowly stopped, also still hard as nails.

“Can I kiss you?” Steve asked quietly. “If you promise not to talk, I’ll remove the gag.”

Heartbeat doubling in speed, Tony’s eyes fluttered.

Yes.

No. God, no, how could he? Their last kiss together hadn’t been... a quick peck before parting and then–

He nodded.

“Promise to keep your big mouth shut?” Steve asked and Tony gave him a smirk. “You know what I mean,” Steve said, snorting, but sat up to turn Tony’s head and to unbuckle the gag at the back of Tony’s head.

Tony moved his lower jaw and Steve smiled as he massaged it. His eyes were gentle and Tony couldn’t look at him for more than a glance.

“Not a word,” Steve said, “Yeah?”

Tony forced a grin. “Permission to speak,” he said, his voice scratchy.

“Denied,” Steve parried, his eyes dancing all over Tony’s face, concerned.

He cupped Tony's head, leaned in, and stopped, his eyes on Tony’s lips. “But you are consenting to kissing, right?”

Tony closed his eyes, bit his lip, and nodded.

“Good,” Steve breathed, his mouth so close that Tony could feel the warm air against his face.

The kiss started tender and soft, almost there, as if a touch of a feather. Then it got warm and electric; his cock reenergized, his lips parted and Steve’s tongue was in his mouth. It was almost as good as penetration, Steve’s eyes closed and it tasted like– It wasn’t better than an orgasm, Tony told himself, denying himself more tender musings.

They kept kissing, pulling away for breath and diving back in, with Tony’s limbs straining in his bonds, wishing he could touch Steve back, embrace his body once more before they parted this shared space for good.

_“I know you don't want a relationship or for me to get attached again,” Steve had said while finalizing their arrangement. “Don't worry I won't get attached any more than I already am.”_

_Yeah, Tony knew. “I’m not worried,” he said, not even lying. He wasn’t worried about_ that. _“I still want this week. We will have this week and then part as friends, deal?”_

God, Tony was such an idiot.

But now the week had tipped over into the second half of it and Tony was still as attached as ever and Steve was kissing him, possibly for the last time ever, because this was it. This was definitely it.

Steve pulled back.

“Tony?” He frowned, looking worried. “Are you crying?”

Tony shook his head. He didn’t have permission to speak, so he couldn’t tell him.

“You can speak now, Tony,” Steve allowed worriedly. “Tell me, what’s wrong!”

His heart twisting painfully, Tony turned his head away.

“Tony?” Steve pleaded. “Please, tell me you are alright!”

Although obviously worried, Steve also sounded in control, ready to solve the problem the moment Tony told him what it was. He sounded like a general giving Tony an order to confess, but also like... ‘I love you’. Something flared brightly in his chest, squeezed, and died. That couldn't be.

It wasn’t.

“I’m alright,” he rasped, nodding. Of course he wasn’t alright, but he couldn’t not be now. So he swallowed, blinked the last of the tears away and looked Steve in the eye. “Let’s–” He cleared his throat. “Let’s proceed.”

“You sure?”

Steve still sounded worried, and searching his eyes, he absently stroked a stray lock of hair out of Tony's face. That also felt like the forbidden three words that had no bearing on this situation.

“We can take a break if you need to,” Steve said quietly. “Or you can safeword if you need to. It’s gonna be–”

“No.” Tony shook his head. “You can gag me again. I’m ready to proceed.”

Steve blinked. His mouth formed a thin line for just a moment, but then he nodded and lifted the gag off the bed.

“I think it needs a wash.”

“No it’s–”

“Permission to speak rescinded,” Steve cut him off and not even looking at him, left the room.

When he returned, there was a new-found air of determination to him and any trace of the disappointment Tony thought he’d seen on Steve’s face, was now gone. Had he imagined it?

Steve eased the gag in, buckled it up and without further ado reached for Tony’s cock.

“Ungh!”

Steve chuckled and started stroking. It was hard, fast and painful. It was very efficient. In no time, Tony was panting and twitching, his mind blank, his body moving, straining to catch the orgasm he so very much needed. Steve upped the pace, Tony’s body went taut, Steve let go.

Tony cried out.

“Yeah, just like this baby, this is good, you’re doing good,” Steve said, as he continued stroking and teasing Tony’s skin on his thighs and on the inside of his legs near the plug.

It was maddening and once more Tony thought he should make Steve stop. At least he’d get off then. But no. The expression on Steve’s face was exquisite and Tony wanted what Steve wanted. It felt good to be governed by his iron will. With his hand on Tony’s cock, Tony would live and die on Steve’s whim, and that’s the way it was.

Steve’s fingers circled his cock again and closing his eyes, Tony groaned.

The touch was light this time, playful as if plucking strings on a guitar and soon Tony was whimpering in desperation, bucking his hips. Steve threw him an amused look but didn’t say anything, just kept stroking.

The pressure built and built. And went nowhere. Biting down on the gag, Tony stilled, tried to swallow, and let out a frustrated growl. Glared at Steve.

Steve hummed in obvious pleasure, lifted his free hand to Tony’s face and cradled his cheek. “Look at you, Tony,” he said, “So pretty in your rage. I like the way your eyes are flashing now.” Just for a second, he squeezed Tony’s cock and gave it a few decent tugs. Involuntarily, Tony moaned. “What if I told you that this is all there is now… Me and my hand, and you... wanting…?”

He petted the cock lightly again and at the tender look in his eyes, Tony suddenly felt all his anger peter out. He whined with arousal. There was disappointment there, sure, but also a thrill of being at Steve’s mercy so completely that all his focus was entirely devoted to every touch, every word, glance and a tilt of his Dom’s head. Steve was his Dom and Tony...

“Yeah, just like that.” Steve’s hand sped up on his cock. “Sh… such a good boy. See that mellowing in your face? You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you? This tease.”

He let go of Tony’s cock entirely to play with his balls and suck on his nipples and that was good in a totally different way. Tony keened and whimpered, raising his chest to chase whatever skin to skin contact there was. 

“Such pretty noises,” Steve almost cooed. “So nice to hear you with me, every step of the way.”

Steve sat back up and started stroking again, doing a good job this time, just like he knew Tony liked it. Panting and squirming, Tony was clenching his asshole rhythmically over the intrusion of the plug and–

“Ugh!” Tony yelled as the plug came suddenly alive.

Steve hummed as if pleased that his theory had proved truthful, and reached between Tony’s legs to press at the base of the plug to angle it more firmly against Tony’s prostate. Tony moaned his appreciation. His orgasm started rapidly building in him, closer and closer and–

“Aagh!” he yelled into his gag as the hand let go of his cock and disappeared.

The plug went back into its previous, useless position of hinting at the real pleasure, but not really providing any, and Steve made an uncharacteristically sweet cartoonish noise, “Aw!”

Tony glared at him and Steve smiled, reached his hand out and stroked his cheek, trailed it down his chest and then his hip. Tony twitched at the close proximity, his whole skin too sensitive to keep still.

“We’ll take a short break here, I think,” Steve said calmly, getting up and stretching.

Tony wished he could at least get up from the bed; even if he wouldn't be able to touch himself like he wanted to, nor follow Steve out the room, it would still be one indignity less, than to just lie here and wait like a discarded robe on a bed.

A moment later, Steve walked back in with a bottle of water.

“You want the plug off for now or shall I keep it going?” Steve asked and when Tony just glared at him in reply, Steve tilted his head, amused.

He reached for the remote-–

Tony shook his head once.

Damn.

“Huh,” Steve made, still taking the remote in his hand. “I wonder, if that was ‘no, I don’t want it’–” He shut the plug off and Tony had to bite back a whine. Steve flashed him a grin. “Or did you mean, ‘no keep it going’?” He clicked the thing on again, two, then three levels up and Tony trembled, whimpering. “Yeah… might have been that one.”

He set the vibrator on the lowest, annoying level, and sat down next to Tony. His face full of satisfied indulgence, he removed the middle part of the gag.

“Be careful now, water incoming.”

Tony drank.

Next, Steve shut the plug off completely, and played with it manually, moving it from side to side then in and out again. Tony gritted his teeth and wondered how much longer he could take it. Then Steve put his big rough palm on his cock and he figured it wouldn't be long at all. Steve jerked him off slowly but in just the way that Tony liked and combined with the plug fucking that he was subjected to, he was there.

"I think I like these tears," Steve commented. "They look pretty on you." He wiped them away before taking a tissue to clean up the saliva from his chin and neck. "I think I would like to keep you here indefinitely, suspended in this almost sated, but never there state. Would you like that, sweetheart?"

Tony was glad that the question was rhetorical because he honestly had no idea how he would answer it.

Steve's own erection went unmentioned and untouched in his soft pants, so maybe Tony had the better end of the deal after all.

"Alright, shall we?" Steve said and went on to lubricating his fingers before grasping Tony's cock once more. "We'll just keep going then, I guess?" Steve mused.

I can't, Tony wanted to yell. I can't, please!

"You can't expect me to do all the work, can you?" Steve retorted. "See how hard I'm working to make you come?"

Despite the obviously mocking words, there was a yearning in Steve’s gaze that made Tony think that Steve was planning to let him orgasm properly, after all. Maybe it was all a game to make it better for Tony, and once Tony got there, Steve would let Tony enjoy his orgasm? It was true that Steve loved seeing Tony come, so maybe Tony just had to get there.

Invigorated and ignoring the strain it put on his wrists and ankles, Tony started meeting Steve's hand motions thrust by thrust, fucking himself into the rigid circle of fingers, panting and moaning eagerly.

"Yeah, just like that, Tony," Steve said encouragingly, "Very good. Just like that."

And then suddenly, Tony was there, close, close, close and com-

Steve let go, and tugging painfully at his balls, squeezed.

It was too late though, Tony was coming and his cum was dripping out... but with no further assistance and pain, the pleasure was simply not there.

His orgasm was _ruined._

Tony cried.

  
  


Later, after cuddling and Steve's awed praise, Tony read ‘I love you’ on Steve's face again. It hurt, because without a doubt that was a face of goodbye.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, that's almost it! :)  
> One more to go.  
> Are you excited? :)  
> I am!
> 
> And thank you so much for reading. Seriously!  
> I wrote this for Ven and for myself and I knew that we would love it, but I'm so glad other people are enjoying it too.  
> All the love to you! THANK YOU!
> 
> <3<3<3<3<3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are. :)  
> The last chapter!
> 
> Two things to note:
> 
> There is a bit of dialogue I’ve already published in another story, but this is the story it was first written for. I was just silly and took it from here and published the other story first. I probably shouldn’t have but… *shrug* it is what it is…
> 
> Also:  
> Bae wrote part of the sex bit at the end and I melded it into my text and it is awesome now thanks to her. She’s Awesome! TY <3  
> And the ending has a lot of her in it too.  
> Thank you so, so much!! <3

The next morning, the first thing Steve told him was, 'day five' and the ache in Tony’s chest wasn't even for the number but for the cheerful way Steve said it.

As if he was finally letting go. 

All Tony could do was close his eyes in response.

"Kneel," Steve said after breakfast and went to peek into the cupboard containing the equipment.

Was this all they had now? Steve said ‘kneel’ and Tony just did? Steve would get off and tell Tony he couldn't?

Yeah, admittedly, that part he liked, but that was not all he liked, not all he wanted. Steve Rogers was again, just a friend; a promise that had not delivered.

“Not your pleasure, remember?" Steve said a little later, as he was idly petting Tony’s stiff cock.

It was a thrill physically, but a part of Tony was not on board. God, Steve’s tone was so gentle, his expression indulgent, as if Tony was enjoying the denial too. He was. Of course he was; he had been. Not my pleasure. Yeah, I do remember, Tony thought in the privacy of his own head. I remember everything and I’ll remember it all as long as I live.

When Tony had asked for a week of torture, he’d thought it would lead him to letting Steve go, not the rekindling of their flame or this burning arousal. In some respects, Tony Stark was a very stupid man.

That day, Steve put a cock cage on him, removed the gag and they went outside.

“Some fresh air will do us both good,” Steve had said.

They walked around a lot, looked at people and buildings, and talked. They ate at a cafe near Central Park. Despite the butt plug going off inside him at random times and his eyes glazing over from arousal, the real torture was that he couldn’t hold Steve’s hand, play footsie under the table and kiss him softly on the mouth as they were eating ice creams on their way back.

The talking was the best part. Not because Tony had been denied that right for days, but because they chatted easily, like they hadn’t done in a long, long time. They talked about anything and everything they saw, and a little about their shared past, their relationship. It hurt, but neither of them had gotten defensive or angry, and that, more than anything, convinced Tony that they were both letting go.

Good.

"Pampering day," was the first thing Steve said after Tony woke on the sixth day. "I'm going to keep you in bed today. No getting up for you."

Pointedly, Tony looked at his lap.

Steve laughed. "Right. Well, you can also have bathroom breaks. I won't be bringing you bedpans.”

Oh thank god. For a minute there, Tony had thought he’d have to endure some medkink thing and he wasn’t really in the mood for games. Not anymore.

Tony stretched, did the bathroom thing and restrained himself from touching his stupidly excited cock for one, and one reason only – Steve expected him not to. Damn, but he was whipped. He truly was, but it was their last full day together; tomorrow would be the aftercare and bringing him out of subspace. Truthfully, Tony was not sure he was even experiencing it any more. He honestly had no idea.

The salient point here was that Tony went unrestrained and unsupervised to the bathroom half hard and returned full on.

He stared at Steve for a moment. "Permission to speak?"

There was a flicker of doubt as always but then Steve nodded. "Granted."

"I didn't touch myself," Tony blurted like an idiot. "It just… happened."

He blushed but Steve's lip corners twitched.

"I like you with your filters down," Steve said. "But you don't." He sounded sad and Tony wished he could make him less sad  _ somehow _ – "So maybe hush for now, alright?"

_ That _ Tony could do. Yes. He was relieved. He nodded.

"Good boy," Steve praised.

He let Tony have a cushion to kneel on for breakfast and allowed him to keep his palms on his thighs.

"Open," Steve ordered when he brought a piece of toast to Tony's mouth the first time. "Drink," he said when he lifted the coffee mug to Tony's lips. Tony said thank you with his eyes and kissed Steve's fingers as he ate. Steve smiled indulgently and petted Tony's hair.

Tony was hard throughout the whole thing.

"Last day tomorrow, huh?" Steve said with a smile in his voice later as they were cuddling – cuddling!– on the sofa.

The TV was on and Tony kept telling himself that it didn’t mean anything. Just a part of the play. Just Steve's way of bestowing dominance over Tony's will. The only difference from regular cuddling was that Tony was naked, gagged and plugged. The constant, insatiable arousal that was still coursing through his bloodstream, translated into pleasure even though he knew it wasn't going anywhere.

Steve probably didn't care if Tony tapped out now. That’s why they were cuddling; Steve was ready. Tony dropped his head on Steve’s shoulder and closed his eyes. There was wetness pooling at the edges of his eyelids and he blinked it away.

Last day tomorrow.

Felt like the last day was there already and Steve had said it so casually, cheerfully, as if it wasn't the end of the world. Well, for him, it clearly wasn't. For Steve, the week would probably become the liberation Tony had selfishly planned for himself. 

That’s karma for Tony Stark.

Tony suppressed the bitter chuckle that wanted to burst out of his chest.

“Tony?”

Nothing, Tony said by jerking his head. He patted Steve’s thigh to show that he was alright.

He was glad that he could give that to Steve in the end. Closure. Freedom from Tony Stark and all that his life entailed.

His parting gift.

  
  
  


After lunch, Steve walked Tony into a side room where a masseuse table was laid out.

No. Tony's gut tightened in anxiety. No.

They'd done it as part of a role play once. Tony had treasured the memory and now Steve wanted…? Tony’s chest tightened. He dropped his head and took a step further into the room. Apparently, it had never meant as much to Steve as it had to Tony. That was okay. Tony took a deep breath, released it and walked to the masseuse table. It was okay. Tony could do it.

He’d just let this be the knife that drove the truth home: Steve had never been as invested in the relationship as Tony had assumed he was.

Didn’t matter. It’s just sex. Tony could take it.

“Let’s take the gag out, it’ll be more comfortable for you.”

What about the… Tony tilted his head questioningly over the shoulder.

“It’s not going to be sexual this time, the plug can stay.”

What? Why would it not be sexual? What would it be then? A massage? Still feeling conflicted, Tony swallowed, nodded and lay down.

Steve oiled and rubbed his hands together, and got to work. Steve was good at it; very good. Felt like a professional but with love, and Tony’s walls crumbled. I'm not going to cry, Tony told himself. I'm not going to.

"Turn around, please," Steve said when he was done with Tony’s back.

There was deep contentment in his voice and Tony… Tony was trembling with grief.

God.

"Tony?"

He couldn't. Tony couldn't turn around.

Steve put a hand on his shoulder and a powerful spasm that Tony was unable to hold back any longer, shook his body. It felt like an earthquake had overtaken and lava was in his gut and in his limbs–

"Tony are you … crying?"

Steve sounded shocked and worried and that made it even worse. There was no point in hiding his blotched face any more, so Tony got up.

"Safeword," he hiccupped. "I'm safewording."

He darted back into the main room, looking around wildly.

"FRIDAY," he got out foolishly before remembering that the AI didn't currently have any access to the suite. "Where are my clothes," he demanded of Steve without turning around.

He was such a fool, thinking he could stand this–

Steve held out a bundle of clothes to him and was saying something.

–such an idiot to have thought that he could ever have anything to do with Steve again. That he could ever interact without breaking down, without it breaking  _ him, _ in a less than professional setting. How could he even have thought that this week had been a good idea? He couldn't even take a little skin rub without losing it!

"Tony."

He didn't care for the pleading tone. Hesitating only for a split second, he pulled the plug carefully out and dropped it on the floor. He didn’t care. Pants up, shirt on, mobile in the pocket, that was all he really needed. He sniffed and lightheaded, desperately swallowing his sobs, he turned to the door.

Steve was standing in front of it as if he was guarding the gates of hell; no one in or out. Not having his shield hardly mattered. If Steve Rogers wanted to keep you in, you stayed in.

Tony whipped out his phone and pushed the on/off button.

"Tony."

A number combination-

"Tony, please…"

Tony’s fingers froze.

"Please listen to me," Steve implored as if the fate of the universe was hanging in the balance. "I'm not going to keep you from going if you really want to go, but would you please just sit down for a little and calm down first? You don't even need to tell me why you safeworded, just please… I need to see that you are fit to drive, at least?"

Tony stared at him. “I’m okay,” he lied.

Steve grimaced, the expression on his face was miserable. All Tony could do was flee to the kitchen.

“No, you’re not,” he heard Steve say.

Tony opened the fridge and stared into it with unseeing eyes. He didn’t really want anything; he felt nauseated.

“I'm pretty sure you were at least a little in subspace," Steve went on. "Will you just have a coffee with me? No games, I won’t even touch you, just… Please.”

Tony never could say no to Steve when he truly asked for something, so steeling himself, he closed the fridge and turned around. As he sat down at the kitchen table, Steve started the coffee. Tony was letting Steve take care of him again.

Idiot. An absolute idiot.

Steve took two cups and spooned the sugar into both, four for himself, two for Tony. No caffeine pills now, huh? Then Steve started on some sandwiches.

“Stop procrastinating, Rogers,” Tony said snidely and cringed.

Steve froze for only a moment. “Seems you’re out of subspace then,” he said, taking out ham and lettuce out of the fridge.

“Sure,” Tony agreed. “Can I go then? Without you blocking the exit?”

It was Steve’s turn to cringe. “Doesn’t mean you are not experiencing subdrop. We finished kind of abruptly.”

Shrugging, Tony accepted the steaming mug. “I don’t feel like cuddling either.”

Steve nodded. “Understandable. But you do need some form of aftercare, and you are not leaving here until I’m sure that you are fit to drive.”

“I’ll call HAPPY!” Tony exploded.

Startled, Steve swallowed, but didn’t back down. “But then you’ll allow me to tell him what kind of care you need.”

"Why?" Tony demanded. "Why are you like that?! Why do you CARE?” He leaned forward on his elbows. “WHY did you agree?"

Steve’s face was too near, his eyes were stormy and his mouth was in a thin line.

“Don’t you know?” He asked quietly, his voice hoarse. Steve licked his lips and swallowed, but didn’t pull back or turned his gaze away, as if trapped in the eyelock as effectively as Tony was.

"No. No, I don’t.” Tony shook his head. “Why even agree to this stupid week if you knew that you couldn't even do what I wanted?" He sounded angry, unreasonably, belligerently angry, but he couldn't stop. "You knew I wanted to be hurt and instead you made me feel good. And yes, fine, you made me forget too, which was the point, I guess, but it wasn't the pain that I had asked for! It was not what I wanted. So why, Steve? Why?"

Breaking the eye contact, Steve blinked and leaned back. For a moment, Tony thought he would simply up and leave, but instead, Steve brought his mug to his lips and took a small sip. Then he sat it carefully back down on the table and stared into it.

“Well?” Tony repeated.

Steve’s shoulders tightened, then relaxed. "I agreed because… as I already told you. I failed you when it was so important for me to do my part and I didn't.” He glanced up at Tony but averted his gaze quickly. “We should’ve worked it out between us and we didn’t, because I never even bothered to listen to you. I’m sorry."

Ah, yes. That made sense. Regret. Guilt, he'd known that. Tony had known that. Shit. His fingers tightened around the mug. But surely, Steve had enjoyed it too? He must have.

He wanted to ask for the confirmation, but he'd been forced silent for too long, and when Steve started talking again, Tony's mouth closed as effectively as if the gag was still in his mouth and Steve's word was law.

"I hid crucial, personal information about your parents from you,” Steve went on, oblivious to the storm whirling inside Tony. “I was trying to find ways to make it less hurtful and I couldn’t find one. Telling you about it scared me, hurting you scared me, so I rationalized it. Hiding from the truth that I was just being a coward. For that, I am also sorry, Tony."

That… wasn't something Tony had expected. "That's okay," he said, and added, "I understand.” Because it needed to be said. At last. “Protecting loved ones is important. I would have done the same.”

Steve shook his head. “No, you wouldn’t have, Tony. You would have trusted me.”

Tony shrugged. Shifted on his seat. “Maybe. Maybe not. We’ll never know.”

He should go.

“But you did try reaching out about the Accords, Tony. And that is a lot more than I ever did.” Steve was fiddling with his mug, his eyes were on Tony's face, watchful, imploring.

“That wasn’t enough," Tony categorically parried. "Me, reaching out. You said it yourself, I didn’t try hard enough.” Steve started shaking his head, but Tony didn’t let him interrupt. “I should have talked to you earlier,” Tony continued more calmly. “When I first heard about it. I should’ve shared my plans with you and we could’ve prepared the team, but I…” And that was hard to say, but Tony sighed and went on. “I guess, I didn’t trust you enough either. So I’ve got no room to talk. That should just cancel it out, right?”

Steve smiled sadly. “As I already said, you tried way harder than I did. But if you need to hear it, Tony, then I forgive you.”

Yeah, he’d figured that one out. Tony’s hindbrain had it figured out on the third day, but he’d not given himself a chance to realise it.

He snorted. “Leave it to you to set an example to actually say it. Fine then. I forgive you too, Steve.”

Tony expected to see a relief on Steve’s face, and there was some, but the expression on his face remained far too serious for the light-hearted goodbye that Tony had been aiming for.

"Thank you, Tony,” Steve said solemnly, lowering his head. He clenched his jaw as he did when preparing himself for doing something difficult.

The sight made Tony’s stomach tie itself up in knots and he shifted on his seat again. Maybe Tony should just… He glanced at the door.

"Wait,” Steve said hastily. “There’s also another reason I...”

“That’s okay,” Tony interjected, realizing that he wouldn't want to hear it after all. “We don’t have to talk about that.”

“No, we do. I need to–”

“Please don’t!" Tony almost grabbed his hand but pulled it back making a stupid jerky movement. "I have no interest in the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ or ‘you know that this was inevitable’ talk.”

Steve closed his mouth with a snap. Shook his head.

Tony’s cheeks heated. “Fine, what was it you wanted to talk about then?”

“I… It was... This week.” Steve paused, looked at Tony, looked away, started again, “This week has been–” Tony was shaking his head but Steve hardly paid attention, just pushed on like he always did. “–very hard for me. I didn’t want to do it, but I couldn’t not do it, because… I knew that if I turned you down, you'd do something stupid, like… Ask someone else and I… I couldn't stomach the idea of anyone else hurting you."

Having hope flare up and die in less than a second made Tony snort bitterly. "Why would you even care?"

Steve jerked back as if stung. "Why would I...? You know that I care about you, don’t you?"

Tony smiled slightly. Sadly. He nodded. Shrugged. It would be the height of idiocy to read anything into that, he knew. Because however much he yearned for Steve to mean it in more than a simple, friendly way, he knew that Steve Rogers would always care about other people even if they were the crap variety who made immoral (even if politically astute) choices.

"Because I do, Tony,” Steve insisted. “I do. I care about you very, very much."

Not enough. The smile slipped off Tony’s face. Steve was clearly overdoing it. Tony should go. Why was he still here? He started standing, but suddenly Steve was leaning forward, looking him in the eye and obviously trying to convey his sincerity.

"I…" he swallowed. "I can see that you don't believe me." His lips crooked in an approximation of despair. "Yeah, I get it. Okay. Okay, I was a shit friend and an even worse partner. God, I know.” He took a deep breath. “This week… this whole fucking week, I just wanted to give you my all because… because I wanted to make you see... make you see that…" He leaned back, looking utterly defeated. "But I can see that I failed.”

Steve’s eyes were burning with loss, with despair with… It was too intent, too deep, too... something. And Tony didn’t understand.

“You know what Nat told me at Peggy's funeral?" Steve went on, changing the topic. "Just after we discussed the Accords that first time?"

Tony shrugged, confused. What did it even matter now? What had happened, had happened already and nothing would change that. And what did it have to do with this week anyway?

"She said that staying together was more important than how we stayed together.”

Tony hummed, resigned. “Well, that’s what I said too, wasn’t it?” He glanced at Steve, saw his determined 'I'm gonna make you see' expression still on his face and suddenly felt the full weight of his affection for the other man. “Why is it that you never listen to me but you listen to other people?” he asked with a smile.

Steve shrugged helplessly. “I didn’t listen to Nat either.”

Tony laughed. No. No he hadn't. When Steve thought he knew better, no one in the world could convince him otherwise. But suddenly it didn't matter. It didn't matter at all what exactly had happened. Not the way Steve had blindly trusted Barnes but not Tony; not how he concealed the truth; not how Steve was obstinately stubborn about the Accords and just assumed his bad intent towards Wanda.

Not the way Steve never talked about their relationship out loud to anybody, not even to their friends.

Steve was Steve. He always did what he thought was best, and Tony loved him.

"Okay," he said, standing. "You've made your point."

He stepped away from the table and turned to leave, but abruptly, Steve was in his way again, standing too close, his hands raised as if he wanted to grab Tony and shake him.

"No wait,” Steve said, “I haven't got to my point yet–"

"Yes, you have. You’re sorry, I get it."

"But I haven't apologized for–"

"Yes, you have. It's okay, Steve. It’s all fine. Really. I told you I get it. You did what you considered right at that moment, and you’re sorry it hurt me. It was a bad situation. I understand. I'm not mad anymore, Steve. It's okay."

"You... aren’t?" That seemed to take all the wind out of Steve's sails. "You forgive me then? For everything?" he asked, checking, as if he couldn't believe for a moment that it might be true.

"Of course," Tony said simply. "Of course, I do. You didn't mean to hurt me and the promise of together still stands right?"

"Yes, yes, of course, Tony," Steve said, conviction strong in his voice. "I'm sorry for not being there when it counted, for standing against you, for not trusting you. It won't happen again."

"Unless you disagree." Tony raised his hand to silence any arguments Steve might try to voice. "It's okay. I know you will try. And it's not as if I was blameless with the Accords wank either. I could have explained my plans long before the Accords had been finalized and that's on me. And I could have listened to you about Barnes's culpability, I could have–"

"No," Steve finally stopped shaking his head and put his palms on Tony's shoulders. "No, Tony. You did everything you could and more than I ever expected of you. But thank you for trying to find the middle ground. It means a lot. I'm glad we can agree on all that, but there's something else."

Tony sighed. Steve didn't love him. Never truly had probably. Tony would have to accept that now. Let it go. And that was okay. Now that he knew, Tony would make peace with it.

He patted Steve's upper arm, grinned briefly and started walking toward the door. "That's okay, we don't need to talk about that."

He knew Steve wouldn't stop him now. Why would he?

"And that's it?" 

There was an edge to Steve's voice that Tony hated. Captain America was getting angry. Which meant that Tony’s temper was also rising.

"You're just gonna walk out of here?" Steve said. “Just like that?”

Tony couldn’t bear to turn around. "Feels like we’re through anyway, doesn't it?"

"Are we?”

Tony huffed, turned around and… froze.

Steve was angry yes, but there was pain on his face, desperation in his eyes. As if...

Steve swallowed, his lips twitched unhappily. Why would...? Domdrop. And Tony had just safeworded with no consideration for Steve's wellbeing. While he was simply trying to make Tony feel good. No wonder Steve had insisted on coffee; he must be feeling terrible.

Tony couldn’t allow that. He took a deep breath, nodded to himself and asked, “What do you need?”

Steve blinked, obviously confused. “Me?”

“Yes you. It’s the domdrop, I’ve read about it.” Steeling himself, Tony took a step closer. “We probably should cuddle or something. You’ve been in the groove of domming for almost a week now, your endorphins probably cut off too quickly.”

“My endorphins?” Steve sounded incredulous. “You’re worried about my endorphins?”

“I know that doms need to be told that they are not terrible people afterwards. That’s why you needed to take care of me; you don’t want to feel like a bully.”

Steve jerked as if slapped. Oh god, Tony was fucking it up! Steve was going to think he’s the worst dom in the world if his first proper scene ended with his sub safewording and running out. Tony couldn't let that happen!

“You are not, Steve! You’re not a bully.” Tony took another step, and putting his arms around Steve's waist, hugged him. “You are the best dom ever, Steve. It’s not your fault that our relationship is fucked up.”

Tentatively, Steve raised his arms to hug Tony back.

“Yeah? So why exactly was I apologising just now?”

Steve spoke quietly, but he didn’t sound as if ready to walk off the ledge any more, so that was a win.

“Well, you know what I mean,” Tony disagreed. “Me crying had nothing to do with what kind of dom you are, just as you apologising had nothing to do with how the scene ended.”

“Didn’t it?”

“No. No, it didn’t.” Tony thought for a moment. “Maybe let's move to the sofa?”

Taking a shuddering breath, Steve tightened his arms around Tony and let him go. “Okay.”

Tony grabbed the mugs and they went to the living room. Steve was standing in the middle of it as if unsure what to do and Tony could see that he was dying to say something, probably to apologise again.

“Go on then, sit.” He nodded towards the sofa.

Steve looked at him dubiously for a second and then did as bid. Tony sat next to him, then scooted over and leaned on him with his thigh touching Steve’s.

And then he got hard. Of course. Breathing slowly to calm himself, Tony smiled at Steve.

“Better?”

For a moment, Steve didn’t reply, just watched him. Then taking a fortifying breath, said, “I know I overdid the pleasure part at the end there.”

“Not really,” Tony confessed. “You did well as a dom. Absolutely within the confines of what we’d agreed.”

He obviously didn’t realise why Tony had safeworded, but that was fine. For the best, really.

“I made you cry, Tony.”

Steve was caressing Tony's arm, probably trying to calm himself, but it was sending tingles all over Tony's body. Just keep breathing, he told himself.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like you needed an out,” Steve added when Tony didn’t reply.

“It wasn’t because you were tender per se, it’s just that…” He shouldn’t tell him, but at this point. Tony was tired of holding himself back all the time. “With the way I still feel about you… it's hard.”

Steve stopped breathing and Tony tried to shrug it off. “Don’t worry, it won’t be a problem. I did it with Pepper too, and we’ve always worked together fine.”

“What? What do you mean?”

Steve was not relaxing. Shit. Tony was a fool to have told Steve. God, such a fool! He’d known that Steve wouldn’t, couldn’t reciprocate but the confirmation made his heart squeeze in his chest. Tony tried pulling away, but Steve’s grip around his shoulders tightened and putting his other hand on Tony’s hip, he turned to face Tony fully.

“You said that you forgave me, didn’t you?” Steve repeated. “So what. Exactly… did you mean?  _ How _ do you still feel about me, Tony?”

Stilling in the iron grip of supersoldier fingers, Tony shut his eyes tightly. _ Don’t make me say it. Don’t make me say it, Steve.  _ Fuck, he can’t start crying again. Not now. Fuck! Not looking at him, Tony pushed at Steve’s chest, but Steve wasn’t letting him go.

“Tony? Tony, please!”

“You heard me,” he snarled, shutting his eyes tight.

“God, Tony!” Steve pleaded. He hugged Tony tight to himself, then let go. “Look, I’m sorry if I’m reading this all wrong. I probably am, but… Tony!”

He scooted away, let go of Tony and stupidly, Tony felt bereft. He looked back at Steve, only to see him pleading with his eyes now too. Why…? Tony’s heart picked up a mad gallop and he shook his head as if that would make him help understand what was going on.

“You didn’t mean to tell me that you still loved me, did you Tony? Just a little maybe? Like before, yes?”

His hands jerked as if he wanted to grab Tony and maybe shake him.

“You… want the answer to be yes?” Tony hated how hesitant he suddenly sounded. Logically, he should know the answer, it was plain on Steve face but… How could that be? “Steve?”

“You said you love me? Still?” Steve sat closer and went on, “And maybe I am just hearing what I want and you meant it as friends or whatever, but I can’t…” He stopped, roaming Tony’s face with his eyes, demanding an answer. “I’m really hoping you meant it like before, Tony. Because I never stopped. I never stopped loving you! I–”

“Don't say things you don’t mea…" he started, but trailed off as the reality started realigning itself in his brain. He swallowed, suddenly feeling mute or as if the stupid gag was still lodged in his mouth. "You mean it? You really mean it?"

Steve gasped as if he’d been holding his breath, and Steve’s went large and astonished and full of joy.

“I mean it, Tony.”

There was no hesitation in his voice, no doubt in his gaze and–

Oh. He must really mean it, Tony thought. “Okay.” He nodded.

Steve’s head jerked back in startlement. “Okay? So you…? Too?” he asked, clearly needing the confirmation.

Tony nodded. He opened his mouth to say the words, closed it. Reached out for Steve and just as Steve was reaching for him-

They were kissing. Lips on lips, lips on skin, hands roaming, refamiliarising themselves with the mutual celebration of relief, joy of being together again, in this just as they had been so long ago, and a bubble of a laugh was trying to burst out of Tony’s chest.

And Tony decided to let it. He laughed.

Steve didn’t mind. He grinned widely, then hugged Tony closer to his chest, then pulled Tony into his lap. He chuckled and even before he stopped, tried to kiss Tony. Mirth dying down, it was slowly, carefully and then in an avalanche replaced by the overwhelming feeling of desire. His hips bucked, then more purposefully he rubbed their crotches together and moaned.

“Stop smiling so hard, you moron,” Tony mumbled between kisses. “I’m hard as fuck, someone has been cockblocking me.”

Still grinning, Steve brought their crotches together and pushed Tony away only to repeat the motion in a deliberate tease.

“Yeah?” he said. “Wanna play some more?”

Letting go of Tony’s hips, he rubbed his chest and nipples with his palms. Tony whined and reciprocated movement for movement, touch for touch and soon Steve was also panting. He kept kissing Tony’s neck, sucking the tender skin under his ear and leaving a wet trail down to Tony’s collar bones. Trembling and moaning, Tony dug his nails into Steve’s shoulders.

“Shit, Steve! Would you just...” He groaned. “I don’t need hickies, I need to come, Rogers!”

“You want me to make you come?” Steve asked with a false lightness.

“Dammit, Steve,” Tony exclaimed and reached for his belt buckle.

Chuckling, Steve took his wrists, pushed Tony down on the sofa cushions, and pressed his hands above his head.

“Just let me do this my way. Okay?”

There was a dark edge to his voice, yes, but he also sounded hopeful and Tony knew without a doubt that Steve would do whatever Tony wished for him to, just like he used to.

Tony smiled and sighed. Steve let out a sigh of his own, closed his eyes and leaning over Tony, put his lips a hair’s breadth away from his.

“Thank you,” he whispered, and for a split second touched his lips to Tony's.

He leaned back up and started unbuttoning Tony’s shirt. The touch was electric and Tony’s own, shaking hands were trying to help, fumbling in the fabric. Steve, on the other hand, was undressing Tony with a singular attention he usually gave to powering through the enemy lines.

Soon, they were both naked, their lips touching and parting again, fingers skimming, probing, petting. Quickly, quickly, yes there… Their chests were moving against each other; nipples gliding over the goosebumps, then pressing harder, parting again. Tony’s cock was throbbing under pressure and weeping with the need for more, but this time Steve didn’t rob him of pleasure. Instead, Steve’s palm covered it and moved on it up to the head and down to the root again and again, slowly, sensually, then quicker.

“Let it go,” Steve murmured, “Let it go, sweetheart.”

Tension built, pleasure mounted, and Tony willed his body to do as it was commanded, trembling in a silent moan. He whimpered in preparation, then release, but when it started or ended he had no idea; just that it lasted and with it, all the tension, the pain, anger and bitterness that had accumulated over the last six minutes, hours, days, months and years… All of it melted into nothing.

He had done it. He had let go. Not of Steve, but of all the guilt and regret that was holding him back and keeping him down. It was all gone now; and least for the moment, all there was, was Steve and his love that Tony was finally letting himself feel.

Thank you, Steve, he thought.

“Thank you,” he repeated quietly. “You’re an idiot,” he added because he always did.

And just as always, Steve hummed his agreement. “But a lucky one.”

“No. I’m the lucky one,” Tony replied and in his head added, I love you.

He should tell Steve. Soon. Tomorrow? It didn’t matter. Steve already knew. And they had all the time in the world. 

Together.

  
  


**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is. I hope you liked <3


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